Voices in the Dark
by POTOF
Summary: A young woman is befriended by a mysterious voice. What will happen when they realize their true feelings for each other? And will she be able to accept the truth about his past?
1. Prologue

Dear diary,

My name is Selena Lenoir. Well…that's what it used to be. I am not sure anymore. So much has happened since I was given that name. That is why I am starting this diary. I need to know who I am. After all that has happened, am I still Selena? I think not. Yet, this is the only name that I have to give you. I am not sure that anyone else but you knows it. Here I am not Selena. Here, I am 'girl'. As in, 'Girl, clean up this mess!'. I have been at this opera house for three weeks, and still no one has thought to use my name. Not that I'm complaining. If I ever hear my name spoken again, it will be too soon. I used to take joy in hearing my name…before he used it. I remember a time when I was not alone, when I had a mother, when I was pure.

I do not remember my father. He died shortly after I was born. My mother's name was Caprice. She was a kind woman, and she loved me very much. We had little money, so life was hard for us. I was nine years old when she died. Mama had fallen ill, and we had no money for any kind of medicine. I had heard terrible things about the orphanages, so I ran away before anyone could find me. After living on the streets for a while, I met a nice man who offered to take me in. He said that all I had to do was earn my keep by doing whatever he asked of me. Yes, William Destry seemed nice enough. He was old enough to be like an older brother to me, being twenty-one at the time. I kept this view of him for many years. Then I began to change.

My body began to take on a new shape, and Destry noticed. He waited until I was eighteen before deciding that my everyday chores weren't enough to keep me around. I had no idea what he was doing that night, not until I felt the pain. 'I have a chill, come warm me' were the words he used to get me into his bed. I will never forget the feeling of being raped. I fought him, but he was too strong. He hurt me. After that night, he wanted me with him every time. Little did he know that this would backfire. Destry seemed genuinely shocked when we discovered that I was pregnant. My pregnancy ended the painful nights, but soon brought on a new kind of pain. I miscarried at four months, and Destry would have nothing more to do with me. He allowed me to recover and then cast me out into the street.

I am now twenty-two years old. I was somehow able to make my way to Paris, and was even more fortunate to find a job. I do not get paid much, but the managers let me stay here for free, no questions asked. This is a great blessing to me, as I am trying to fade from existence. Rumors about my past have been circulating throughout the Opera Populaire for a couple of weeks, but I find myself not caring. As long as I am left alone to do my duty, I am satisfied. I cannot say that I am happy…I do not expect that I will ever be so again. My soul died with my music, and no matter how hard I try, I cannot revive it. Take a good look at the figure before you, for she is but a ghost.

The accident that took away my voice happened about two years ago. Hungry and tired, I did not notice the carriage emerge from the fog a few feet away. The driver tried to swerve around me, but he was going too fast. The horses reared up, and I ducked...too late. One of their hooves caught me in the throat, knocking me to the ground. My leg somehow moved underneath me, and I felt something crack. So there I was, curled up in the mud, screaming in agony. A man's voice called out from the carriage.

"What did we hit?"

"It's nothing, Mr. Vicomte." the driver said, "It's just a filthy little beggar who can't watch where she's going."

'Beggar?' I thought miserably, 'Do I truly look so desperate?'

The Vicomte stepped out of the carriage and helped me to my feet. When he found that I could not stand on my hurt leg, he helped me to his carriage.

"To the doctor's if you please, driver." he said.

"But Sir, your wife is waiting!" the driver said in distress.

"She will understand." the Vicomte replied hurriedly.

So off we went. If I had not been in such pain, I might have enjoyed the luxury of being driven somewhere.

I fully recovered without so much as a limp, which the doctor proclaimed a miracle. But my voice…I can talk as easily as anyone else, but I cannot sing. My mother loved to hear me sing. After she died, music became my only true friend. It seems ironic that I would end up working at the one place that I would have normally tried desperately to avoid. To be here is torture of the worst sort. As I fulfill my duty of doing anything and everything asked of me (cleaning up messes, tightening corsets, fetching something or other for the new diva…), I find myself trying to sing along with the chorus. I hear my voice crackling and rasping, pitching up and down like a mule as if I was tone-deaf. It may be a sin, but I wish that I had died in the accident. I wish this every night, though I know it does nothing but bring me pain.

I have heard tell, Diary, of another ghost who once lived here. It is said that he was the cause of the fire that destroyed this magnificent facility four years ago. I think that it is amazing that they were able to rebuild it in only three. The tale of the so-called 'Opera Ghost' seems to be just that, a myth told to frighten and entertain the simple-minded. Well, I am not one of those people. The story sparks my interest, but I do not think twice about walking alone down dark passageways. If this Phantom is real, then so be it. I have not the time to worry about such things.

Mother once told me that I had a cousin my age that came from my father's side. I sometimes wonder whatever happened to her. I have a picture…perhaps I could recognize her if we met? If only I could remember her name. My cousin came to live here when her father died because mama and I could not support her. She might have been able to tell me more about the Opera Ghost, but she is not here any longer. It seems as though everyone from that time has vanished. Thankfully there were a couple of men who ignored the rumors and bought the Opera Populaire off of its former owners. I've heard that it was sold at a very cheap price…

Who is this man/ghost? Does he truly exist? If so, does he have a name? They say that he was a murderer, and that the two brothers of one of his victims (Joseph Buquet I think was the man's name) now reside here at the opera. Perhaps I should talk to these two brothers. I think I remember seeing one of them earlier today. If nothing more, this absurd tale will serve as a distraction from my misery. I would also like to know more about the mysterious masked murderer who supposedly dwells beneath the Opera Populaire. If he truly exists, then is he a threat to the safety of those who dwell here at the opera? It is strange. I have not been this interested in the gossip of others before now. This man interests me. This man with the voice of an angel, but the face of a demon…the Phantom of the Opera.


	2. To the Dungeons of his Black Despair

Downward I ran. The stairs seemed never-ending. Vaguely aware of where the stairs were taking me, I refused to let hesitation slow my frantic pace. Rapid heavy footsteps sounded behind me, or was it just my imagination? Had Julian Buquet truly followed me down? Surely the death of his brother was enough to cause him to hesitate. I had never expected him to turn on me in such a manner. I had only gone to ask him what he knew about the Opera Ghost, but he thought otherwise. He couldn't catch me. If he did, I would lose my only chance of keeping whatever was left of my old self. The thought of having a man's hands touch me in that way sped up my aching feet.

I could feel it already. As my energy began to run out, I felt Buquet's hands on me. They moved roughly over my skin, touching places I never wanted any man to touch ever again. As this sensation grew stronger, I realized that it was Destry. It was his hands that were roaming my body, making his mark on me for the first time. It was the one mark that nobody else would see but me. That was all that mattered, that I knew who I belonged to. Sensations flew to the front of my mind, filling my sensory organs with all the memories from that first night. My own screams as I realized what was happening, the harsh feel of his hand hitting me, that same hand covering my mouth so as not to disturb the neighbors, the feel of the rough sheets against my suddenly bare skin, the smell of his cologne mixed with sweat from a hard day's labor, fear and panic flooding my mind as he pinned me down…then pain as he forced himself upon my unwilling virgin body. Nothing hurt as badly as that first time. After a couple of months I stopped fighting him. The pain lessened then.

Tears ran down my face as I shamefully remembered the first time that I gave up. Destry rewarded me by leaving me alone the following night. Oh, the shame! No matter how tired my legs became, I promised myself that I would not let Julian Buquet catch me. Phantom or no Phantom, I knew that I would rather die than let myself be raped again. I turned my head to look over my shoulder momentarily. Sure enough, there was Buquet. A sudden rush of adrenaline allowed me to burst through the entryway at lightning speed. There was a lake. Of course there would be a lake. Splashing through the water as fast as I could, I felt myself begin to panic. Knowing that no one would hear me, I screamed. Crying. Splashing. Screaming. Wishing someone would have the mercy to shoot me as Buquet drew closer. I opened my eyes and looked toward the shore. A man was standing there, looking at me. I knew who it was even before I saw the white mask covering the right side of his face. The Phantom.

Still firmly believing that it would be better to be killed than raped, I continued to wade toward him. The Phantom looked behind me at Buquet. To my surprise, the man leapt into the water and held out his hand to me. I took it, and he pulled me behind him. Buquet stopped walking. His face turned pale and he took a step backward.

'So he is afraid of the Phantom. That's nice.' I thought to myself.

I was nearly hysterical with relief. Murderer or no, the Phantom was saving me. A strange kind of standoff was occurring between the two men. Buquet seemed to either be frozen in fear or indecisive as to what he should do. The Phantom was standing firmly in place, staring him down. He took a step forward and Buquet ran _backwards_ toward the exit.

'Smart man, however perverted he may be. He probably doesn't want to get strangled to death like his brother Joseph.'

I stood stock-still as the Phantom walked in my direction. This was it. As the thought of being strangled to death came across my mind, I felt fear creeping back into my body. My head started to feel light and fuzzy as things began to blur. My legs became wobbly, and then gave out.

Erik's POV-

I watched her start to sway and wondered what I should do. Taking a few steps forward, I held her steady. She seemed to try to fight her way back to full consciousness, but then went limp in my arms. I lifted her from the water and carried her to my bed. 'Why am I doing this?' I wondered, 'I could just as easily take her back upstairs. Someone would find her eventually.'

Someone. An image of Buquet flashed through my mind, and I shuddered. No. I would not leave her to that fate.

Before I lowered the curtain that would give the young lady privacy, I accidentally saw her. I had looked at her before, but refused to actually acknowledge what I was seeing. Now, as soft candlelight bathed her still form, I found myself staring. It had been four years since I had seen another human being up close, not to mention a woman. Her gentle curves begged to be traced. The wavy light brown hair that framed her face longed for a hand to stroke it. That face that had been so pale upon entering my home now had a gentle blush forming in the cheeks. Her lips were full and seemed to perfectly curve.

'What would they look like if pulled up into a smile?' I wondered.

My hand moved toward her cheek. I was entranced. It was as if my whole being longed to be close to her. She stirred slightly and I jerked my hand back in horror. What had I been thinking? Never again could I touch a woman in that way. Never! I had promised myself this after I let Christine go. No other woman could possibly handle the terrible sight of what lay underneath the mask, and my heart could not bear the pain of being rejected once again.

I let the curtain fall between the sleeping angel and myself. What would become of her once she returned to the world above?

'Surely Buquet would not give up so easily' I thought, 'not on a beautiful woman such as this.'

The temptation arose to keep her with me. I came up with a thousand reasons to do so, Buquet being the first. Yes, there were many good excuses to have her stay by my side. Unfortunately, there were even more reasons for me to let her go. It would have only taken one. I would return her topside once she awoke, then watch over her for a few days. That would ensure her safety from Buquet…and also myself.

I exited the room and ventured over to the organ. I sat down, but did not play. It had been three years since I had played or sang. Without Christine, the music seemed have to left my soul. Each night I heard her beautiful voice in my mind, ripping me apart. She was long gone, that I knew for certain. I had watched her leave that day. Christine and her fiancé were on to bigger and better things, but not I.

'Is this truly my end?' I thought numbly, 'Am I destined to wither away to nothing in this, my own personal prison?'

The thought drained me of what energy I had left, but I knew I could not sleep. My shoulders sagged under the weight of my despair and I shut my eyes against the dim light that acted like daggers driving into my already throbbing skull. Sleep had not come to me for many nights…more than I could ever remember having passed before. My eyes opened again and I sensed that I was being watched. I turned to see the young woman staring at me from across the room. Rising from the bench, I made my way to her at a leisurely, non-threatening pace. It was time.


	3. Yet in his Eyes

He began to walk toward me and I felt my heart jump into my throat. What was he going to do? Did he consider me a big enough threat to his existence to need to end mine? His pace was slow and hesitant, his eyes watching my every move. His eyes. I looked into them and saw my own soul staring back at me. The Phantom stopped, seemingly aware of what was transpiring. I longed for him to look into my eyes. Would he see the connection? He did look, and what I saw there took my breath away. When I looked into the Phantom's eyes, I saw a soul that was bleeding. He began walking once more, and paused a few feet from me. What was he doing? Gently taking me by the arm, he led me toward the stairs.

'Curse those gloves of his!' I thought as I felt the cold leather against my skin.

I wanted to touch him. By the small amount of skin that was showing, it looked soft.

We arrived at the top of the stairs much too soon. He released his loose hold on my arm and turned to go.

"Thank you." I called after him.

He turned sideways to look at me in surprise.

"I-I wish there was something that I could do in return. Is there?"

The Phantom tilted his head to the side, as if studying me. He then walked up and momentarily touched his index finger to my lips. Silence. He wished for my silence.

"Of course." I replied with a reassuring smile, "I would not reveal your presence to anyone. That would be poor thanks indeed. But surely there is something else I could do?"

The left corner of his mouth twitched slightly, and I found myself longing to see him smile. He then shook his head and walked swiftly back down the stairs alone.

My room was not far from this set of stairs, and I hurried to get there and lock the door. I could never tell anyone about what had just happened. To do so would certainly mean the Phantom's death.

'I wonder why he did not speak to me. I should have liked to hear his voice.' I thought dreamily.

I had not ever felt like this before. Why was it that my dingy little room suddenly seemed alive with color and inspiration? I sat down with my journal to write, but I could not find the words to describe how I felt. All I knew was that I was happy. No, I was sad. Well, maybe both. Confused as to which I felt, I began to write.

Dear Diary,

I have seen him. Is he really a murderer? The Phantom seemed so shy and polite; I cannot imagine him being angry enough to kill. Perhaps his killing does not stem from anger. A more likely motivator would be pain. Every time that I think of the hurt I saw in his eyes, a physical pain starts to form deep within my chest. I am saddened by the state of his soul, which I think was once beautiful and strong. I am also happy. Is this even possible? My happiness comes from finally connecting with someone besides my mother for once in my life. Did he feel the same connection that I did? I wish that I could see him again, but I doubt that I ever will. Yet how can two souls that seem to match up so perfectly be kept apart for a long period of time? Perhaps we shall meet again. Someday. I pray that it is soon.

As I set down my pen, I found that my thoughts dwelt upon his face.

'_Will_ I ever see you again?' I thought sadly.

Passion rose from deep within me, and I sang. I cried as I sang, wishing for my old voice. How could I effectively express myself without my music? It was true that I had other means of communication, but none of them were connected to what was inside of me. This was the reason for my sorrow. I had lost the only link and outlet I had to my passion. What was strange was that, with him, I had felt it again. The moment that I had connected with the Phantom, I felt a spark of the old me rise up inside. How could a stranger possibly make me feel that way? It was as if I had already known him for years, and was simply saying hello to an old friend.

'But why?' I thought with frustration, 'Why does he make me feel that way?'

The answer would come soon, but I would not realize it for another six months.


	4. That Voice Which Calls to Me

They knew. I realized it the moment that I walked into the room. Somehow my past had caught up with me, and now rumors were buzzing around the opera house about my other life. I learned to keep my head down and ignore the whispers of 'whore' that seemed to echo throughout the hallways for days on end. My last chance at life had been destroyed. No one asked if the rumors were true, they just passed on the information as quickly as possible. The invisibility of weeks past was finally gone. My name became a curse, and I soon learned to stick to the shadows. I was now as much of a ghost as the Phantom.

' If only someone would speak to me in kindness.' I thought longingly, 'If only I had a friend…just one true friend. Then I would be happy. But that's not going to happen. I'm alone, just as I have been for years. What else is new? If only there was a greater, more horrifying rumor to be spread…'

Erik's POV-

Selena. Her name was Selena Lenoir.

I purposefully ignored the rumors about her. Strange and vulgar things were always said about the newcomers. Even if the rumors were true, I was hardly one to judge.

'Why are you still watching her? Buquet has made no move so far. He is not likely to bother her now.'

Ah, my ever-untimely conscience. It had been a week since Selena had entered my home, and I was still following her. I did not eat or sleep, only watch the silent angel. The only time I heard her speak was the morning that I returned her topside. She had sung. Not well, mind you, but still…the passion…the unexplained tears in her eyes...Her eyes. A connection had been there when she looked at me for the first time. I felt an unnamed emotion stir within me, one that I had not felt in years. It reminded me of Christine.

'I must speak with her, but how?' I thought with frustration

I had sense enough to know that I could never go to her in person, but I could not let go of the connection that I had felt that morning. There was something special about this woman, and I was going to find out what. As I followed Selena to her room, I started to form a plan.

Selena's POV-

My heart was filled to the brim with bitterness and despair. As I entered my room, another rumor to replace the one about me entered my mind. It was as if it had been sitting there waiting for the opportunity to be used. The return of the Opera Ghost would certainly be considered more interesting than the past of the harmless little janitor girl. I could hear their frightened whispers already.

'It's a perfect plan!' said the jury in my head.

I winced. It was a fairly good plan, but there was no way that I was going to betray him. I had made a promise, and I was going to keep it.

I fell back onto my bed and shut my eyes. Technically I should have been getting into something more comfortable, but I didn't feel like moving. My body was tensed as if ready to fight. Turning over onto my side, I curled up into a ball. Sleep would not come easily tonight. I opened my eyes and stared at the candle beside my bed. It flickered, and I frowned. There was no wind. The candle continued to flicker, then went out.

'Okay…I'm officially freaked out now.' I thought, backing away from the candle.

"Hello?" I said hesitantly, "Is anyone there?"

"Hello, Mademoiselle Lenoir." a voice said quietly.

Frightened, I hugged my knees protectively. It didn't sound like Buquet…who could it be?

"Please, do not be alarmed. I am a friend." the voice said soothingly.

"I have no friends, Monsieur." I replied flatly.

"Why is that?" he asked.

I laughed. The man seemed genuinely interested, but he was crazy if he thought that I was going to give my life's history to a total stranger. Before I could tell him so, the voice spoke again.

"Perhaps the reason has something to do with the current rumors floating about the opera?" he asked casually.

My face turned red. I squeezed my knees tighter and put my head on top of them, hiding my oncoming tears.

"Forgive me," the man said softly, "I should not have said that."

"It wasn't my fault." I pleaded, "I didn't know what he was doing. I tried to run away, but he hurt me. Please, I need someone to believe me. I need someone to know the truth! Please…"

My begging faded to a whisper and then died out as silent sobs took control of my body. Why did I suddenly care so much that someone know what really happened? No. Not someone, him. I needed this man, whoever he was, to know what had happened. Why him? Why now?

As I pondered these questions, I waited for a response. Silence. Of course. The man had gotten the story that he'd come for and left. My sobs slowed to hot tears of anger.

"Curse you." I said to the darkness, my voice filled with hatred.

"Forgive me. I-I did not know."

He said this in a whisper, every word filled with emotion and sincerity.

The man sounded as if he too were about to cry. It seemed wrong somehow, him crying for me. Then I realized the importance of his statement. Lifting my head, I wiped away my tears.

"You believe me?" I asked him in disbelief.

"Why would you lie about your life to someone whom you do not know?" he replied.

I smiled. I found myself liking this man in spite of myself. It seemed as though he knew exactly what to say to bring Selena out of hiding.

"Who are you?" I asked in awe.

"I told you, I am a friend." he said evasively.

"I could use a friend." I said thoughtfully, "Not many people want to be friends with a-"

"Don't." the voice said in a soft but firm way, "Do not call yourself by a false name such as that, even in bitterness. It does not become you."

"And by what name shall I call you, Monsieur?" I asked him, "Must it simply be 'Friend', or is there another name that would better suit you?"

" 'Friend' is quite suitable for the time being, Mademoiselle." he said.

"Call me Selena." I asked of him, "It would please me to hear my name be used in a kind manner again."

"As you wish." he said lightly.


	5. In Sleep He Sang to Me

Erik's POV-

We talked for hours on end. She would smile at something that I said and I would soon find myself smiling with her…at her. I found myself smiling more in that short period of time than I had in years. It felt strange to hear my own laugh again as well. I could somehow tell that she was having the same experience.

Early into the morning, I noticed her eyes beginning to remain closed for longer periods of time as she blinked.

"Go to bed, Selena. You are tired." I commanded softly.

"No I'm not. I-"

She yawned and I let out a small chuckle. She smiled in return.

"Alright, so I'm a little tired. I can stay awake. Keep talking." Selena said obstinately.

"It is not a question of whether you can stay awake or not, but rather why I have been so rude as to keep you up for so long." I pointed out.

"But-" she began.

I cut her off.

"Sleep, Selena."

I started to walk back through the secret passageway in the wall, but stopped when I heard her voice calling after me.

"If I go to sleep, you'll leave me." She said sadly, "I don't want you to leave. You might not come back."

She wanted me to stay…of _all_ things…

"If I promise to return, will you go to sleep?" I asked gently.

Her eyes took on a strange look, one that I recognized as distrust.

"When would you return?"

"Whenever you wish." I replied thoughtlessly.

"Tomorrow? Would you return tomorrow night, after I return from doing my chores?" She asked hopefully.

Hope. My thoughtless reply had given her hope. How could I go back on my word? If I had been thinking only of Selena, I would have turned her down. I would have walked away, refusing to see her again. But because I was also thinking of my own wants, which seemed to somehow correspond with hers, I agreed.

"Of course. Now, sleep."

"Will you stay with me until I am asleep?" She asked, her eyes now shining with the brightness of the hope in her heart.

I could not refuse.

I stayed with her, watching her move.

'She is moving too much for someone trying to fall asleep.' I thought testily.

She turned over onto her side once more, opened her eyes, and spoke.

"Have you left?"

"I promised you I would stay until you fell asleep," I said calmly, "and so I shall. I would appreciate it, however, if you would uphold your end of the bargain."

My voice had risen slightly at the end, showing my annoyance. She shrank down into the blankets and pulled her knees up. I recognized this as Selena's defensive position and immediately regretted letting my feelings show.

"I'm sorry. You're probably tired as well. You can leave if you want." She said softly.

I had hurt her. Already.

Sighing, I attempted to fix the situation.

"I do not wish to leave, Selena, but rather that you go to sleep as you promised."

"Today has been stressful for me." she explained, "It takes me a while to relax on nights such as this."

How well I understood her predicament. It was for the same reason that restful sleep continued to evade my grasp.

"Is there anything in particular that would calm you?" I asked.

Her eyes turned misty, and I sensed that Selena was remembering something from her past.

"As a child, when I could not sleep, my mother would sing to me. Nothing else would work." she said sadly.

I nearly screamed. It was too déjà vu.

Moments passed as I tried to calm myself. As I thought speaking might prove hazardous to my sanity, I kept quiet and focused on regulating my breathing.

"Monsieur?"

My hands grabbed at the air, silently wishing to strangle the life out of her. Selena, oblivious of the danger she was in, continued to speak.

"Please, was it something that I said?"

She thought that she had offended me. Ha! Scared me half to death perhaps, but not offended.

"Close your eyes, Selena."

She quickly obeyed. Taking several deep breaths, I did the only thing that I could do at that moment.

Selena's POV-

He sang. Such a heavenly voice I had never heard before in my entire life. My body relaxed to the point that I thought I would sink through the bedding and onto the floor.

'It's him.' I thought blissfully, 'Who else could it be but him?'

The Phantom had been following me. The sad part was that I wasn't freaking out. I was more flattered than anything else. I was a little bit too happy as well.

'I wonder why he won't tell me who he is.'

I listened to the beautiful melody that could have easily been the voice of an angel, and felt warmth and serenity flow through my core for the first time in about thirteen years. Something in the back of my mind told me to stay quiet about my discovery.

'He probably wouldn't come back if you let on that you knew who he was.' I thought to myself.

The Phantom's voice rose and fell with gentle ease. The lullaby he was singing was familiar to me, but I had never liked it before that moment. I realized that I had never before truly understood the song's passion. The true meaning of the song was usually hidden beneath the untrained voices of tired mothers and fathers.

As the lullaby continued, I turned my focus from the words to the melody. The song was written in a foreign language, so it was hard for me to know what the song was about through them. By listening to the melody, I began to see a very clear picture before my eyes, and I knew what he was singing about.

I saw a night sky filled with a million stars. I saw soft grassy meadows and ran through them, laughing with ease. There was a stream running gently through the middle of a valley covered with flowers. I walked into the stream and splashed water at a shadowy figure standing beside me. The figure began to chase me playfully through fields and over hills. I ran breathlessly ahead of the shadow, never wondering where I was running. Nobody else was around except for the shadow, which was quickly gaining on me. Tired of the chase, I slowed and let it catch me. The figure was solid, and it knocked me to the ground. Looking up, I saw the Phantom smiling down at me. He put his arms around me, fell into the grass beside me, and then pulled me on top of him. I let my head rest upon his chest and released a sigh of contentment. This was where I belonged.

The singing stopped and I woke up.

'He must have left.' I thought sadly.

Quiet footsteps slowly came in my direction, and I was careful to keep my eyes closed. One strand of my hair lifted slightly from the side of my face.

'What…?' I thought confusedly.

A warm hand touched my cheek and I scarcely dared to breathe. The hand cupped my cheek lovingly and I leaned into it. As I silently expressed my pleasure, I wondered if the Phantom was truly as oblivious as he was acting. Didn't he felt the growing pressure against his hand? I didn't know what I was doing at the time; I just acted on my feelings. What was it about the Phantom that allowed him to be the exception to almost every rule laid down in my head? The two times I had been with him had made me unsure of everything, especially myself. Every wall that I had thrown up to protect myself against the world came crumbling down around me. This scared me, but only because I was afraid that he would leave me alone and unprotected. As long as he was with me, I no longer felt the need for walls.

'If it brings him closer to me, I will gladly tear down every one of my defenses.' I thought.

For once in my life, I desperately longed for a man's touch.

Erik's POV-

She was soon fast asleep. I kept singing, the soft melody of the song calming my own nerves as well. Selena sighed in her sleep, and I wondered what she was dreaming about. I stepped out of the shadows and quietly walked over to her bedside. It was pitch-black in her room because of the lack of windows, but I could still see perfectly well. For not the first time in my life, I was grateful for the night vision that came as a result of living underground. I could see every detail of Selena's beautiful face, but she could not see me.

Removing one of my gloves temporarily, I allowed myself the pleasure of touching her hair.

'So close to her face…her skin…' I thought longingly.

My hand moved unbidden to caress her cheek. I had not meant to touch her, but to do so was bliss. Selena stirred in her sleep, and I froze. Would she wake up? Would she see me standing there, catch me stroking her face like one would do to their lover? Fear gripped me as she continued to move. But why was she moving? Selena was not turning over, as I had expected her to, but rather moving only her head. She moved her head slowly in a circle like pattern, pinning my hand between her cheek and the pillow. It was almost as if…

'Dear God, no.' I thought with horror, 'It can't be! I must be imagining-'

Before I could finish my panicked thought, Selena began to push more persistently against my hand. _She was nuzzling it_!

Tears welled up in my eyes.

'She can't know what she's doing,' I reminded myself, 'she's asleep.'

I wanted her to know. I wanted to wake her up and take her in my arms. One thing I knew for certain, I could never leave her as I had planned. I had just met this woman a mere week ago, and already I had fallen in love with her.

'My beautiful angel, if only you knew.'

I pulled my hand gently out from underneath her cheek and headed once more toward the secret passage.

'You will likely be the death of this poor wretch, Dear One.' I thought with a sigh.

If I died of unfulfilled longing for this angel, then so be it. A death such as that would be far preferable to rotting alone and forgotten in the cellars. But before I died, there was one last task that I had to fulfill, something to help my sweet Selena. The Angel of Music would come forth once more. He would once again help a broken angel to fly from the darkness and into the light. This time, he would make a silent angel sing.


	6. Who is Your Great Tutor?

I swept the stage slowly. So much was running through my mind, it was difficult to focus on the task at hand. Nearly six months had passed since I had first met the Phantom. He had gone from being a mysterious stranger to a trusted mentor and friend. As my teacher, he was very strict, yet always fair. As my friend, he was compassionate and caring, though there were times that I wondered if he truly understood what I was thinking. What frustrated me the most was that I could not use his name. I knew it, but he did not know that I knew. After the countless hours that we had spent together rehearsing and conversing, he still did not trust me with something so small as his proper name. I, on the other hand, had told him everything. This man could utterly destroy me if he wished; yet I would not even truly know who it was that had betrayed me. He revealed to me no name, no face, and nothing of his past. There was no actual proof of his existence except an angelic voice and the occasional shadow on the wall when he entered my room before I blew the candle out.

I finished sweeping debris off of the stage and the cast hurried to take their places for auditions. When would I be able to join them? When would the day come that I would show them what a gift they had been given? Certainly they all took their voices for granted, why wouldn't they? Yet still they laughed they thought that I did not hear them snickering and mocking me behind my back, but I did. My voice may have been mediocre, but I retained the ability to hear as well as any other person around. The director cleared his throat and the commotion onstage settled to a dull roar.

"From the top, if you please." he said loudly.

I stood behind the curtain out of sight. I was forbidden to join, but there was no rule against listening.

I was deep into the twists and turns of the opera's ending, when the door burst open dramatically. My eyes burst open and I looked toward the door. The outline of a young woman was visible, but the blinding sunlight beaming from behind her cast a shadow upon her face.

"Brava! Brava!" she said.

Her voice was rich. It was light and bubbly, as if she was laughing. Not in an unpleasant way, but as if she was just very happy.

"Madame!" one of the managers exclaimed, "We had no idea that you were coming! A more appropriate welcome would have been prepared, I assure you!"

"Nonsense." The woman said, "I wanted to see this place in its natural rhythm. Your knowledge of my coming would only have defeated the purpose of my arrival."

She stepped toward the stage, and my breath caught in my throat. It was she. It was…

"Christine!" I called.

She turned and her eyes became confused for a moment. Then they became very bright and her smile became even more sincere than before.

"Selena?!?" she said in wonder.

We rushed toward one another and came together in a loving embrace. I had finally found my cousin…my family.

We sat in awed silence. I had just finished telling Christine my story, directly after she had told me hers. It appeared as though our pasts had been unknowingly intertwined years ago. Her husband was the Vicomte de Chagny, the same man whose carriage had caused the destruction of my voice. The only thing that I did not tell Christine about was my teacher. I was deeply afraid that he was listening, leaning on our every word…testing my loyalty to him. I greatly admired my teacher, but there were times that he did things I did not understand. One such event had occurred three months before, when I had tested my voice for the first time outside of my room.

************************************************************************

Final rehearsals had begun for the upcoming opera. Things were going fine until the diva hit a note wrong. She didn't sing the wrong note. She sang the note wrong. I silently shook my head and continued sweeping.

"Do you have something to add?" one of the chorus girls asked innocently.

"No," I replied slowly, "I was just listening."

"You seem a trifle disapproving of the diva's singing." she pointed out.

"I just noticed that she hit the note wrong, that's all" I replied, quickly moving away to avoid further conversation.

"I don't understand." She said slyly, "Perhaps you should show us what the not should have sounded like."

It was obviously a trap.

"I don't think that that would be wise. I'm far from being the diva." I said.

"Oh, come now. Surely one note won't ruin the diva's career…or can you not do it?"

She was smart. Too smart. I agreed and cleared my throat. The music came smoothly from my mouth…then I rasped. Everyone burst out in laughter, and I turned red-faced away from them. I heard the girl talking to a few of her friends later that evening.

"Did you hear that squeak?" she said, laughing, "She sounded like a mouse!"

"It's no wonder," another said, "she spends all of her time in the dust and the dark…just like a mouse!"

I didn't think much of it until the next day, when I found out that I had a new name…. 'mouse'.

The humiliation was unbearable. I told my teacher about the incident later that night, tears welling up in my eyes. He did not think much of it, and dismissed my tears of shame.

"There are much worse things that one could be called. You have been subjected to nothing."

He spoke as if he was offended by my tears, and sounded annoyed at me for even bothering him with something so 'insignificant'. I stopped my tears and was silent for the remainder of the evening, speaking only when spoken to. I was nearly asleep when I once again heard silent footsteps coming toward me across the bare wooden floor. A heavy but quiet sigh sounded above me.

"I do not mean to be harsh Dear One. I know that their words hurt you."

Dear One. That is what he always calls me when he is being tender. When he is being stern or is frustrated, he calls me Selena. When he praises me for some new success, he calls me Angel. But he always saves Dear One for when he needs it most. 'Dear One' is for exhaustion, sadness, and tender sincerity.

"How could I possibly expect you to understand my frustration when I have told you nothing?"

He let out a sigh filled with the weight of draining memories. Never before had I wished so badly to know about my friend. I desperately wanted to know what was going through his mind that would cause such a pained sigh. As if he could read my mind, he answered my longings by revealing yet another wall of defense.

"I am glad that you do not know. I pray that you never have knowledge enough of my life to understand. Your life is filled with enough sorrow already. I would not have you bear the burden of knowing the secrets of Erik's life."

He laughed sarcastically.

"Therefore he shall henceforth keep his misery to himself. For you must not come to know me as a warm living being with hopes and dreams, but rather a shadow…a phantom… passing momentarily through your mind. This unfeeling beast will eventually vanish, sinking back to the shadows before the light of your glorious triumph reveals him and he is sucked once more into the hurricane waters of a close relationship. For you see, my dear Selena, my ship is already wrecked. Even as I speak to your unhearing form, I am drowning. See how I do not fight the cold blackness that washes over me. I greet it with sweet serenity. Soon I shall release you, so as to keep you from following me into the darkness. I sometimes fear that you would willingly keep me afloat in your brilliant light…this you must not do. I belong to the darkness you see. From its depths I emerged, and so there I must return. Once I release you, Dear One, my last breath will not be long coming. Perhaps then I can finally find peace…away from my ever-longing heart."

His voice grew soft and began to shake with oncoming tears born from self-hatred.

"I swore to myself that I would never again fall prey to womankind, but I never expected to find yet another frightened falling angel quivering at my feet. This is why I must stay distant from you, my dear. Not so that I will not keep hold of you, but so that you will not cling to a monster cursed to return to Hell. For if you reached out a hand to this thief of souls, he would take it before you even knew that you grasped the hand of a demon. Yes…the demon loves the angel…so the tale repeats itself."

He took several gulping breaths to calm himself and then leaned over to whisper gently in my ear.

"Hear this, sweet Selena. I will save you. I will save you from the horror that is my everlasting love. You are free, and shall always remain so. I swear it."

Erik walked out of the room and I silently burst into tears. I wouldn't let him go! I couldn't. Not after that. I would let him think that he was going to let me go, but force him to stay by clinging to him as tightly as I could. I would not loose the one man that I knew I could trust.

************************************************************************

Christine cleared her throat, interrupting the silence.

"Do you have any plans for the future cousin?" she asked politely.

I could tell by the tone in her voice that she was merely being polite. Christine no more believed that I would move up in life than any of the rest of the people at the opera. They all thought that I was destined to be a helper and follower for the rest of my pathetic little life. Well, they just happened to be wrong. I could tell by the way that Erik had been talking lately that he believed that I was ready to present my voice to the world. He had a special way of dropping hints without even knowing it. I suppose that he would just be thinking about the topic that he was trying not to mention and it would just accidentally work its way into what he was saying. I could only hope that I did not do the same in his presence. When it came time to audition for the managers, I was sure that he would not fancy the idea of me singing a song other than the one we had practiced. But surely after I sang he would understand?

I felt so much more passionate about the song that I had found than the one that he had picked. It had seemed to be so traditional, while the other song seemed to set my soul on fire. I had found it while re-filing old abandoned operas. That particular piece had caught my eye because it had been hidden within the pages of another opera. The first opera had been shown several times, but I remembered people talking about how horrible it was. I had picked it up carelessly, not caring if any of the pages fell out in the process. The hidden opera had fallen out, and I picked it up to file it in the appropriate place. I had made it a habit to flip through every opera and sing a few bars of each song I recognized before placing it back in the drawer, and I did the same with this one. Several songs had interested me, and I began to hum a few of the notes. When I came to the song that I eventually picked for my audition, I felt a blazing fire of passion begin to race through my veins. I found that I could not stop myself from singing the whole song through completely and with the words. I left the booklet open on the first page of that song and had learned the whole song by the time I was done filing. I picked up the opera to put it away, but found myself slipping it inside of my apron instead. I had told Erik nothing, feeling a strange need to keep it a secret.

Even though I cold tell none of this to Christine, I thought that it was safe enough to tell her about my voice.

"Yes, Christine. I shall soon be auditioning for a spot in the chorus."

She jumped slightly in shock and cast her eyes about the room, searching for something to say. I had not meant to, but I had put my cousin in a very awkward position. If she pretended to either be unsurprised or even the least bit optimistic, she would be lying. To do anything else would be considered rude. I smiled reassuringly and then sang a few scales to show her how my voice was better than it had ever been before. At the first perfect note that I sang, Christine's jaw dropped slightly in shock. When I was finished she snapped her mouth shut and smiled.

"Do not act as though you are not surprised, my dear cousin." I said with a playful laugh, "It surprises me as well. After the accident I never expected to sing in public again. But that was before he…"

"He?" she asked, "He who?"

No! I had said too much! What had I done?

"You perhaps have a tutor?" she wondered.

Perhaps it could not hurt to admit this much?

"Yes, but do not ask who he is, because I cannot tell you. I have sworn to him that I will tell no one."

Christine's eyes glazed over and became distant. She gently let her eyelids drop, only to snap them open moments later. A slight shiver traveled up and down her spine and she looked about nervously. The near panic in her eyes when she looked at me caused me to jump in shock.

"Promise me something as well, would you Selena? Promise me that you will be careful. Your tutor may not be what he seems."

My nerves set themselves on edge in warning. She knew something…or at least she thought that she knew something. I had to reassure her of her ignorance in this matter.

"My dear cousin," I said, putting a comforting hand on her shoulder, "I assure you that there is nothing to fear. However, I do promise to be careful."

For a moment she looked doubtful, but then she brightened and hopped up from the bed.

"Come." she said lightly, "Let us go watch the first rehearsal. I always found them to be quite…interesting."

We both smiled mischievously and hurried out the door. It would be a long time before we would feel so in tune with each other again.

My life and that of those close to me would soon be changed by my beloved secret opera. Not one of us would ever forget the unimaginable path that we were thrust down after that night. The rest of our lives were destined to be impacted by a single song. For little did I know that by singing those words of passion and love, that I was making my choice. There was no turning back. We truly were past the point of no return.


	7. Down Once More!

Erik's POV-

She was ready. I had postponed this moment for as long as I possibly could, but it was here. My Selena was ready.

'Stop thinking like that!' I scolded myself, 'She is not yours and never will be!'

It was time to let her go. I had helped her claim her rightful place in the spotlight. After tonight there would be no doubt of where she rightfully belonged. I had not told Selena about my plans for that evening. I thought that perhaps she would panic; try too hard…she always did at our lessons. She was constantly yearning for my approval. I had been sorely tempted to write one of my infamous notes, demanding that my angel be heard. I had decided against this, however, as it would have not proven beneficial for my presence to be known. Instead, a peaceable suggestion from an anonymous admirer would point them towards their newest diva. Then, after she was settled, I would disappear from her life forever. A now familiar pain shot through my chest, leaving me gasping for breath. I couldn't do this much longer. A person's body could only withstand so much torment…and mine was at the breaking point.

Any moment now my angel would be asked to sing. And I, concealed behind a golden statue, would listen in triumph. She would then return to her quarters to tell me of her strange good fortune. I would of course express my immense approval and then proceed to bring up the subject of a different tutor. If that did not work, which I doubted that it would, I would proceed to my backup plan…total annihilation. Our relationship had to be brought to an end, even if it meant making my angel turn against me. I would not endanger her to satisfy my hunger for companionship. Regardless of how easily I could take her at that moment, I had to save her…from myself.

She started to sing and my body tensed. This wasn't the song we had practiced! It…

'Oh my God…' I thought in horror.

How had she gotten hold of it? Why had she abandoned our song for this? How could fate possibly be so cruel? The sweet melody of her voice interrupted my panicked thoughts, demanding my attention. The tension drained from my body and I closed my eyes in pleasure. Never before had I heard her sing so passionately. Something within my soul stirred and my hands began to shake. This was how it should have been before. Instead of the fear that Christine's eyes had held that fateful night, I tried to imagine wonder and ecstasy in its place. I tried to imagine her singing our song with the same faraway look deep within her eyes as Selena was. No matter how hard I tried, Selena's image refused to be pushed from my mind. Her face ghosted back and forth between her own and that of Christine. Selena's voice rose passionately and Christine was forcibly removed from my thoughts. It was in that moment that I lost control of my emotions. My feelings toward her had been buried deep within my heart ever since the moment that I first saw her. It had been so long since I had first felt her presence touch my soul that I had hoped that the feeling had all but died. I now knew the awful truth…I loved her. I knew that I should disappear from her life now, before I did something I would regret, but I found that I could not move. After Selena sang her last note, it echoed throughout the room, circling my ears and refusing to leave my mind. There was something that I had to try. My imagination ran wild with possibilities as I swiftly turned and headed to the last place that I should have been going…her room.

Selena's POV-

Christine and I were sitting watching the auditions, when the managers suddenly called me forward. I saw the exasperated look on their face and hurried forward. Thinking that I had somehow upset them, I did my best to look repentant.

"Wouldn't normally even consider it…" one manager muttered under his breath, "but all that money…we'd be fools to refuse…"

My eyes darted about the room nervously, waiting to be given some sort of instruction.

"Sing." the other manager demanded with an annoyed wave of his hand.

So this was it. No warning, no final preparation of any sort. I just had to stand and sing my song a Capella in front of every resident of the opera house. I took several deep breaths to calm my nerves, and then I sang.

When I finished, the entire room was dead silent. It was several moments until people slowly started to clap. Within seconds, the entire room had erupted in tumultuous applause. Each of the managers stepped forward and shook my hand vigorously. I was then asked to attend the celebration ball the following evening and to come to rehearsals that coming week. This ball would celebrate the final touches of the rebuilding of the opera house. There had been much procrastination in finishing the final room, which had belonged to the diva in the time right before the fire. There was a great fear that the workers would be inviting bad luck if they went into the room and replaced the boarded up hole in the wall with another mirror…

I opened the door to my room and floated to my dresser. After I had taken a few steps, I fell over something. Frowning, I went back out into the hallway and found a light. When I poked my head back into my room, I gasped at the absolute mess that lay strewn about all across the floor. The few pieces of furniture that the room held seemed to have been thrown carelessly across the room. My bed's mattress was torn to pieces and feathers from my destroyed pillow were everywhere. Someone had been searching for something, and I had a pretty good idea what it was. I hurried over and knelt at a spot on the floor. My heart pounded like a drum as I used my nails to pry up the loose board. Had they found it? Why were they looking for it? What was the significance of the opera Don Juan?

It was still there. I breathed a sigh of relief and clutched the music tightly to my chest. Something bright caught my eye and I carefully made my way to it. The light from my candle cast a gentle glow on a small delicate figure. It was a single white rose.

'Of course he would have sent me white.' I thought with a groan, 'White stands for purity, which he insists that I still have.'

I silently shook my head in wonder. He never ceased to amaze me. Just then, the door swung shut and a slight breeze blew out my candle's flame. He was here.

Erik's POV-

I entered the wreck that was Selena's room and my breath caught inside of my throat. The angel herself was curled up in a corner with her knees drawn up to her chest.

"What happened?" I demanded, "Are you hurt? Who did this?"

Selena smiled.

"I'm fine." she said with a sigh, "I don't know who did this or why. Someone must have broken into my room while I was auditioning."

It did not take my mind much time to come to a conclusion. There was only one reason why anyone would search Selena's room so thoroughly. They were looking for Don Juan. There were only a select few people other than myself who would have recognized the song Selena had chosen, and the list of people who would search so violently for it was even shorter. It was one of the Buquet brothers. Realizing how much danger that my opera had put her in, I decided to proceed with caution. I had to find out how and why she had obtained Don Juan.

"You say that you do not know why anyone would invade your privacy in such a manner," I began, "but surely you must know the history of the opera which you now hold in your hands."

I waited excitedly for her reply. This was it. She would confess that she had been singing to me…for me.

"No," she replied confusedly, "I don't. Is it somehow offensive to one of the cast?"

My world came to a screeching halt. She knew nothing. She was just singing a song she had somehow found amongst the rejected operas.

Anger boiled up from within me and I told her the story of a murdering demon that once terrorized the people of the opera, forcing them to play Don Juan in order to capture an innocent girl and take her to his domain, never to see the sunlight again.

"I forbid you to become associated with that monster and his instruments of evil." I snapped, "Give it to me!"

With this I snatched my opera from her unsuspecting hands.

"What are you doing?" she cried, "Give it back! Please!"

The passion in her voice was fuel for my flaming fury. I stormed over to the stove and shoved my masterpiece into the hungry flames inside.

"No!!!"

Selena dove forward with a cry of horror and I slammed the stove's door shut. I turned and started to walk toward the secret passage. A noise from behind me caused me to turn. Selena had thrust open the door and looked ready to reach her hand into the flames to retrieve the ashes that were once paper in her hand. I leapt toward her and jerked her away. Storming over to where I had stood moments before, I pushed Selena to the floor and left her weeping into her hands. It was over.

Selena's POV-

I had been wrong. Curled up on the floor crying my heart out, I tried to think of how I could have mistaken my now former tutor (for surely he would not have the audacity to return after what he had just done) with the man I had met in the cellar. And yet, they could not possibly be the same man, for what composer would turn his greatest work into ashes? My heart ached to understand why it had been deceived so easily. He had never claimed to be anything other than my tutor. But what about the sorrowful lament that he had whispered to what he thought were sleeping ears? He had called himself a monster and referred to himself as a phantom passing through my mind. He spoke of his death as a moment he had long awaited. How could he possibly have spoken the words that I had seen written so plainly in the Phantom's eyes?

My door opened and footsteps quickly rushed to my side, to light to be the one person I most wanted to see.

"Selena, darling, what happened?" Christine asked worriedly.

I looked up tiredly and realized that both my room and I were a mess. Make-up streaked down both sides of my face, feathers were placed throughout my hair like a new fashion statement, and my right hand was red and swollen from being burnt on the stove. One look at myself in the shattered mirror on the opposite wall and I burst into tears once more. Christine took me into her arms and gently began to stroke my head. A man strode into the room and looked from me to Christine.

"Darling," Christine said softly, "this is my cousin, Selena. Selena, this is my husband, Raoul."

I looked closer and was stunned to recognize the face of the young Vicomte whose carriage had taken my voice. My head collapsed onto Christine's shoulder. I didn't care who the man was to me. He was Christine's husband and therefore would be unlikely to pull me away from her comforting embrace.

"What happened here?" he asked in concern.

"He-he-he burned it!" I wailed.

Raoul came nearer to me with a candle and inspected my burnt hand. He cast a meaningful look at Christine and she responded by holding me closer.

"She has to be protected from him," he said, "There's no telling what he will try to do to her after this."

I realized that they had connected Erik (or I guess the Phantom) to my injured hand.

"No, you don't understand!" I sobbed, "It wasn't who you think! My hand was an accident! It wasn't who it was supposed to be!"

Christine attempted to calm me. She assured me that she and Raoul would take care of things…that I didn't have to worry about him hurting me anymore.

************************************************************************

I walked through life senseless. It had been weeks since I had last heard from Erik, and the loss of his companionship was devastating. I glanced through the crowd of painted faces, as invisible as a ghost. This was the way things had always been before Christine came. The only acknowledgement that people gave me was a polite bow or curtsy accompanied by a remark about my costume. The current celebration was the last place that I wanted to be, but Christine had insisted. Try as I might to escape her line of vision, she always caught me before I was able to slip away. I had already tried twice that night to retreat to the quiet peacefulness of my room, but to no avail. Any time that I moved away from Christine, Raoul was guarding my only means of escape. They both insisted that I relax and enjoy the party, but I was unable to do so. Even once I gave up on the idea of finally having some time by myself, I was still restless. Something wasn't right. I felt as though a storm cloud were hanging over my head. A disaster of some sort was about to happen, and I was helpless to escape it.

Turning around, I frantically began to search for a possible way out. It was a perfect time to look, because talkative members of the cast distracted both Raoul and Christine. I bolted toward the door and ran down the halls toward my room. As soon as I stepped foot in the room, I spun around and locked the door. I moved behind my dressing screen and breathed a sigh of relief. After changing into a more comfortable outfit, I allowed myself to sink into the nearby chair. I crossed my arms and placed them on the table and put my head on top of them. Sadness overwhelmed me and I allowed my mind to come to the conclusion my heart had reached a long time ago. Erik wasn't coming back. I had thought this at first and had been glad of it, but I had always expected his voice to return one day. He was gone.

Tears welled up in my eyes. Even though he wasn't who I had hoped he was, I still missed my friend very much. I refused to let my other feelings for him surface, but I recognized them all the same. I was in love with him.

'Marvelous.' I thought to myself, 'I'm in love with someone who I've never seen face to face, and who I will never hear from again!'

I let out an exasperated sigh and banged my head repeatedly upon the wooden table. Pulling up to rub my now aching head, I realized that I was acting like a child.

'People your age don't sulk like this when they have problems,' I scolded, 'they find a solution and act accordingly.'

But what solution was there? How could I speak to him when I did not know where he was? All of a sudden, I saw something in the mirror. I crossed to the other side of the room and inspected the wall with a candle. There I found the faint outline of a door hidden in the darkest corner of the room. I tried pulling at the cracks, but nothing happened. I then put my shoulder against the panel and pushed with all of my might. The door spun around faster than I could gasp in surprise. My candle flickered but remained lit.

'So this is how he got in my room.' I concluded.

I carefully turned and started to slowly make my way down the stairs.

After opening the door at the bottom of the stairway, I stood still in confusion and shock. Why was I here? Why would Erik have come here? Then I understood. I had been tricked. There was only one explanation for my surroundings. Erik and the Phantom were one. I had been right all along, but he had fooled me into believing otherwise. He had been coming through on his promise. Erik had saved me from himself.

'How could I possibly have been so blind?' I thought in wonder, 'He was forcing me to let go.'

Shame crushed the high I had gotten from my discovery. I had abandoned him. The one thing that I had wanted to prevent, I had all but caused. I had to tell him how I felt, before it was too late.

I stepped once again into the stunningly colorful world of the Phantom, my eyes searching for him. I was near the curtain that led to his bedroom when I heard him call my name. Had he been expecting me? My curiosity rose and I cautiously pulled aside the curtain. Erik lay with his eyes half open, staring into space. I took a step toward him and he started to violently convulse. Rushing to his side, I put a hand on his chest to hold him down. His shirt was partly open in the front, and I moved my hand over his stone-cold skin. Both his breathing and his heartbeat shuddered, weak and uncertain. Tears streamed down my cheeks and landed on his chest.

'Before it's too late…' my mind echoed.

Sitting there beside him, I was afraid that it already was too late. I stroked the bare side of his face and moved to where his head was resting gently in my lap. His chest ceased to move and the rasp of his failed attempts to breathe bounced against the unforgiving stone walls. Sobbing, I called his name in desperation and fear. Minutes passed and I began to give up hope. I would never be able to tell Erik the truth…what I had hoped to tell him one day, when we were both ready. I would have given anything for him to hear the words written on my heart and in my eyes, and to for once know what they meant and that they were true for us. To have him see the meaning of the words 'I love you'.

Erik's POV-

Pain. All I knew was pain, physical and emotional. It's was as if some supernatural being had sunk its teeth into me and was slowly sucking my life away. I tried to relax, to not resist, but my body fights death automatically. I have always been a fighter. Although my body continues to fight, my mind is already gone. I lay still in my bed, listening for a sound that I knew I would never hear again. If only I could have heard her voice speaking to me without fear. Not to her unseen ghost of a tutor, but to me. I spoke her name longingly into the emptiness that I had been thrust into. Then the blackness came. It blinded me and froze my blood. It filled my lungs so that there was no room for air. My body shook and convulsed as I struggled to obtain even a single gasping breath of oxygen. The coldness in my veins became a freezing fire, and I softly moaned in agony. Red and orange hues filled my range of vision and my lungs were burning for a breath of air that I somehow knew would never come. A strange cover lifted from my eyes and I saw it.

No matter how hard I tried, I could not scream. I could breathe now, but each breath was like inhaling the fire that surrounded but failed to warm me. I was pushed forward and I began to fall. My speed increased for there seemed to be no end to the abyss. Without warning I hit the ground. My fears of where I was were confirmed as I felt every bone in my body break through the skin and organs surrounding them. I did not die, but neither could I express my pain. A bodiless laugh echoed from all possible angles, and for the first time in my life, I felt fear. No sound or movement alerted me to the whip that came speeding out of the darkness. The only sound it made was when it landed upon the mangled mess that was now my back. I thought that more pain was impossible. I thought that all of the blood in my body had already been spilled. I was wrong. The whip ripped open the remaining skin on my back and blood gushed out to join the endless river that I was drowning in. It was impossible. I was drowning, broken, and bleeding, yet not dying.

Voices circled me, calling me out as I was lashed all over my body. 'Monster, murderer, demon, devil, animal' they shouted. Even when there was not an inch of skin left on my body, the whip continued to bear down upon me. I then knew where I was. I knew why I bled and drowned without the relief of death. There was only one explanation. I was already dead. I was dead…and this…was Hell. Tears raced from my eyes, burning my skinless body as they slid down my face and disappeared into the surrounding darkness. I found myself calling out for Selena, painfully crawling in what was most likely a circle, trying to find her. But angels didn't come to that place. Only demons. I longed for her presence, to be with her for even only a moment. To hear her say my name…feel her gentle caring touch…her warm body pressed against my chilled form. Of all the things that I wished for, I could only hear her calling my name. It reached through the pain, the cold, the suffocating darkness…..…and I saw light.


	8. Denied and Betrayed

Selena's POV-

He was gone, I was certain of it. His breathing had stopped and I was afraid to check for a heartbeat. Just when I was about to reach down to place my fingers on his carotid artery, he moved. It wasn't much more than a twitch at first, and I was unsure whether or not I had actually seen any movement at all. Then he took a breath…and opened his eyes. I lifted his head from my lap and lowered it gently onto the pillow. Taking his hand, I sat down beside him and looked him anxiously in the eyes. He smiled weakly and reached up to stroke my cheek with the back of his hand. I took his hand and held it there, tears of joy and relief dripping from my eyes onto the bed.

"I'm so sorry, Erik." I said softly.

He looked at me confusedly.

"What on earth for?" he replied.

"I let you fool me." I said, ashamed, "I had promised myself that I wouldn't let you trick me into letting you leave, but I was too blind to see that your behavior was just a ruse to get me to let go."

He stared at me for a moment and then a strange light came into his eyes.

"You knew, didn't you?" he asked softly, "Somehow you knew all along who I was and what my plans were. But how?"

"I was awake. Those nights that you whispered to me in confidence, thinking that I was sleeping, I hung onto your every word."

Erik's eyes closed and he sighed wearily.

"I tried so hard to spare you the horror of this discovery. Why didn't I just let you alone? Why did I search for reasons to keep you near? I was a fool to think that I could push you away as one would a child…you are far from being a child…"

He spoke softly and his words were weighted down with the burden of his guilt and shame. I reached for him, but he turned away.

Erik's emotions frustrated me almost to the point of tears. Why was he doing this to me, to himself, to _us_? Us. The word filled me with understanding and heartache. The reason that Erik was pushing me away, why his soul was filled with such torment, was that he did not see an us. He wanted the unspoken meaning of the simple word us to be fulfilled, but the world had taught him not to dare to ask for such things…not to hope. I too had been taught such a lesson many times throughout my life. I reached out toward him, but was pulled back by a pair of strong arms. A hand covered my mouth, stifling my horrified scream. Looking up, I was shocked to see Raoul holding me firmly in place. Christine came forward and motioned for him to take me back upstairs. As I was carried away, I stared backward at Erik. Christine was speaking to him in a soft but harsh tone. He looked momentarily past her and gazed at me longingly in defeat. When I was gently laid down upon my bed, I curled up into a ball, shutting the world out and sinking into a sea of despair. From the determined look on Raoul and Christine's faces, I knew that I would never see Erik again.

I was monitored at all times, ensuring that I had no contact with Erik. I felt like a caged animal, never able to spread my wings and fly away. Not only did I long to see Erik, but I was worried about him as well. He had been so close to slipping away, and here I was, unable to monitor his health. For all I knew, after we had left him alone he had closed his eyes and let himself die. My breath caught in my throat at this thought, and I buried my face into the pillows, sobbing. This was completely my own fault. I did not know what strange condition pained Erik, but somehow I knew that my actions had made it worse. He needed me and all I could do was feel guilty. Any attempt that I made to go see him was immediately stopped and scolded by Christine or Raoul. No matter how much I pleaded, how many times I tried to explain the situation to them, my words fell upon deaf ears. The closest that I ever came to seeing him might have only been my imagination seeking to please my longing for him. I was able to sneak past both Christine and Raoul after rehearsal, and began to head toward the stairs. Before I had even put a foot down upon the steps, something told me that I was going the wrong way. I turned and walked down the corridors until I reached the newly finished room. Sitting down on the floor in front of the mirror, I felt his presence. My hand moved slowly toward the surface of the mirror, drawn by the memory of what I had been told was behind it.

Erik's POV-

I wanted to die. There was no doubt in my mind that the place that I had been so recently pulled from would be better than the current torture. My chest ached with every breath, and even the smallest movement sent waves of pain and nausea crashing over me. Each object that I touched lacked texture and temperature. I was numb to the touch, yet the pain from within my body never ceased. Regardless of the fire that I sat near and the heavy clothing I always wore, my body shivered uncontrollably. I rarely had any desire to eat or to sleep, and I sensed that my health was rapidly declining. Selena's warm hands ghosted over my body in concern and I groaned longingly. She had cared. There was no logical reason why she should have come back after the way I had behaved in her room that night, but she had. Even before taking a breath to relieve my oxygen-deprived body, I had seen the worried look on her face and felt her tears landing upon my chest. But why? Why did she care whether or not I lived or died? If I had been in her position, I would have wished me dead. After learning of the deception that had been my disguise, how could she still care? I had to see her again, even if she remained unaware of my presence. I had to replace the worried look imprinted in my mind with a picture of her smiling and laughing. Before I left her completely alone, I had to see the angel happy.

I climbed the stairs with great effort, timing my breathing to prevent myself from passing out. The vein on the side of my neck pounded so hard that I thought it would surely burst. I reached the top and nearly laughed at myself. Instead of going the way that would bring me out beside Selena's room, I had ended up at the mirror. Before I would have not minded this oversight, but the hole in the wall had been replaced with a mirror, which I had replaced with a different mirror that was two-way. Unfortunately, I had had neither the time nor the inclination to create a moving mechanism for it yet. This prevented me from exiting into the room and continuing to Selena's room. I cursed my weakened brain and sat down temporarily to catch my breath. Dizziness blurred my vision and for a moment I thought that I was about to regurgitate the meager amount of food I had consumed earlier that morning. I shut my eyes and let my forehead rest against the cool surface of the mirror. Through the roar of the blood rushing through my veins, I heard the creak of an opening door. I sat still, making as little noise as possible, waiting for whomever it was to go away. A familiar sigh filled my ears and seeped down to warm my frozen heart with hope. Opening my eyes, I confirmed what I already knew. Sitting before me, seeming to look directly into my eyes, was Selena. I traced the outline of her face, gently touching the mirror with my fingertips. Her eyes brightened and she slowly reached out to touch the mirror. I matched my hand with hers. There was only a thin layer of glass between her hand and mine, and I imagined that I could feel the warmth of her skin radiating through it. The door burst open and the Vicomte rushed up and grabbed Selena by the arm, dragging her away. When the light from the hallway finally brightened Selena's face, my jaw silently dropped. She looked so fragile, dark marks beneath her eyes revealing a lack of sleep. I was appalled that she had lost sleep over an incident caused by my own stupidity. I had planned to let her be, but I knew that I had to speak with her. Somehow, I had to find the source of her sleepless nights and set things right. I did not dare to hope for forgiveness, but I had to try to relieve her of whatever poisonous thoughts kept her awake at night. If she needed to curse me to the depths of Hell and spit in my face in order to be at peace, then I would be more than happy to oblige. All I wanted was her happiness, regardless of the costs. I knew that I could not simply waltz up to her, so I would follow her until the time was right for me to reveal myself. Filled with purpose once more, I rushed to find her.

Selena's POV-

Raoul pulled me out of the room and back to where Christine was waiting. When she learned where I had been, she turned pale. She then explained to me what that mirror used to be and who used it…and for what reasons. Pft! As if I hadn't already known! Then Christine took my hands and told me a story that I had heard before, though this time with a slightly different perspective. She told me the same story as Erik had told me, and painted him not as a monster, but as a lonely soul who would do anything to have companionship. She then said that he was a dangerous man when properly provoked, and was not one to play games with. I was becoming impatient with her. Did she truly think that I did not know all this? Then she revealed the piece of information that I didn't know. The girl that Erik had taken years before and had loved so dearly, was Christine herself. My blood turned cold and I sat down upon the bed, staring into space. It was her that he wanted, not me. Somehow, I had misunderstood and thought him in love with me. What a fool I had been! Erik had gotten close to me in order to have access to Christine. I did not feel angry, sad, or even hurt by this realization. Smiling at Christine, I gave her my word that I would stay close to either her or Raoul at all times. This time, I meant it. Looking at the clock, I saw that it had grown late. I crawled into the bed in my new room and went to sleep for the first time in almost a week, no longer worrying about Erik's fate. He was no longer my concern.

My dreams were filled with visions of him standing with his arms open to me. I would run toward him, but from the darkness emerged Christine, rushing into his embrace. Raoul then came up behind me and began pulling me away. I woke up late into the next afternoon, drenched with sweat. The day was hot and my body was restless. There was only one thing to do on a day like this, and that was to take a nice soothing bath. Raoul learned of my intentions and began filling the tub with cool water. After he had gone, I pulled the curtains over the windows and locked the door. I sat down in the water and immediately dunked my head underwater. I took my time washing my hair and body until my pores hurt, becoming cleaner than I had been in a long time. After drying myself off, I slipped inside my new silk robe and sat in a chair to read. As soon as my hair was dry, I sat in front of my vanity mirror and slowly brushed it until it was silky and smooth. I dressed in a lightweight but pretty blue and white dress. I then gently pulled my hair back with a blue ribbon and put on a small amount of makeup. Looking in the mirror, I adjusted and fluffed the dress until my reflection was satisfactory. By then it was late evening and the first stars were coming into view. It was time for a walk.

My arm was linked with Raoul's as he escorted me down the hallways. We worked our way toward the roof at a leisurely pace, and I found my mind wandering into dangerous territory. Tears welled up in my eyes as I remembered the feeling of Erik's hand brushing gently against my cheek. No matter how hard I tried, I could not push from my mind the first and last time that I had felt his skin against mine. As Raoul and I approached the door leading to the rooftop, I begged him to let me go up alone. He protested, but something that he saw in my expression changed his mind. I stepped outside and breathed a sigh of relief. The night was very cool, a great relief from the blistering hot day. Walking toward the end of the roof, I sat down heavily in the corner of the barrier. The wind whispered my name and caressed my cheek, wiping away the silently falling tears. Regardless of whether or not Erik loved me, I loved him more than I had ever imagined. The thought of him using me to get to Christine cut me like a hot knife, causing injury to my very soul. I had never thought that the one person who I thought had understood my loneliness would betray me like this. But I could not hate him. I could not even bring myself to be angry with him. It was not his fault that I was not the one whom he loved, and he had never directly said that he loved me. By listening to him while he talked to me in my 'sleep', I had set myself up for heartache. I did not sob, only cried gently.

Footsteps softly and slowly tapped against the stone floor. Without glancing up, I knew who it was.

"She's not here." I said flatly.

"What?" Erik said innocently.

"Christine," I explained with an exasperated sigh, "she didn't come with me, only Raoul."

"I know that." he said softly.

"Then why are you here?" I asked accusingly, "She's completely alone. If you want to see her before Raoul gets back, I advise you leave now. Don't think that I'll do you any favors by stalling him."

"I-I don't understand." he said, " why do you think that I would want to be alone with Christine? Surely you know that any feelings I have for her now are purely friendly, nothing more?"

I winced as my palms began to bleed. I had been digging my nails into them ever since I had sensed his presence.

"Have you no shame?" I growled, "Even when you know that you've been caught, you still try to cover the truth with lies. How many more lies have you told me Erik? How many?"

I looked up, my eyes filled with bitterness. He stood looking at me silently from the shadows, his form barely visible in the moonlight. It was obvious that he was hiding on purpose, but was it to hide the guilt on his face or was it just a habit that he had never bothered to break?

"Tell the truth and let us go our separate ways." I said.

"And what is the truth?" he asked, seeming to be in a perfect state of confusion.

I sighed. If I had to say it first in order to get him to admit it, then so be it.

"The truth is that you used me to get to Christine. You wanted an excuse to see her again. You knew that she would never let me be around you, so it was the perfect plan. The only thing that you didn't plan on is how loyal I am to those that I care about. It was impossible to see Christine with me around, so you got rid of me by making a big scene in my room. You probably have another copy of your precious opera tucked away somewhere, but I wouldn't have thought of that at the time, only acting on my emotional attachment to it…to you. Be assured monsieur, that once I am done talking to Christine, she will come to hate you. Not as much as I do, but enough that all hopes of making her love you will be completely lost. Probably not very high on the list of great revenge plans, but it will suffice. All I want is for you to be denied the same privilege that you denied me, someone to love and to be loved in return."

Hot tears of anger streamed down my face and my breath came heavy and rapid. Erik stood completely still, staring at me in silence. I wanted to scream, but I realized that I already had been shouting. Raoul stood a few steps in front of the door, looking cautiously from Erik to myself. Erik took a half step forward and stopped, hesitating. He reached out toward me half-heartedly with one hand.

"Selena…"

It sounded like a whisper, and for some reason I doubted that Raoul had heard anything. A sob caught in his throat.

"Selena…I…I would never…how could you ever think that I…"

He leaned against a statue, unable to finish a single sentence. His brokenness touched a place deep within me and I cried with shame. He loved me. There had certainly been a misunderstanding of some sort, but he loved me.

"Erik…"

His name burst from my lips like a prayer. I rushed toward him and wrapped my arms around his torso, sobbing with relief. He held me tightly and I felt tears land in my hair. Raoul watched us with a strange look upon his face. By that look alone, I knew that I could trust him. It would be a long time before Christine found out that I was seeing Erik. By that time, I would be glad of it.


	9. The Prying Pandora

We stood in silence for a moment, simply enjoying the freedom to be in each other's arms. I pulled back slightly and took his face in my hands. He looked so tired. The extent of his weariness seemed to reach down into the depths of his very soul, making him shake. Erik's eyes were warm pools of love, but something else lingered underneath. There was something cold and hesitant that I had always seen there and I wondered if it would ever go away. Fear. Even when I stood wrapped in his arms, he was afraid. I was not foolish enough to think that the fear came only in response to our recent isolation, but also from a deeper fear that he had probably held since his childhood. He was afraid of me, of being hurt. I ran my hand soothingly from his forehead to his left cheek. My brow furrowed in concern for his health, but Erik simply smiled and stroked my cheek with the back of his hand.

"I love you, Selena." he whispered tenderly.

My eyes brimmed with tears and I reached up to kiss him softly upon the lips. He pulled back and I moved away from him, confused. Erik opened his mouth as if to say something, his face pained with indecision. I reached out my hand to him but was swiftly grabbed from behind. Raoul wrapped his arm around my waist and pulled me toward the door.

"Christine will be wondering about you." he said, "We should go before she comes looking."

I looked over my shoulder. Erik stood with his head bent in defeat.

"Come to my room this time tomorrow." I called to him.

Raoul stopped and looked at me like I was insane, but all I cared about was Erik's eyes, filled with surprise and hope.

Moments later I was being escorted back to my room. Raoul had not said a single word since the rooftop and I began to worry that he would give me away. I stopped and looked him in the eyes. They told me no more than his expressionless stare.

"I love Erik," I said bravely, "and there's nothing you or Christine can say that will prevent me from going to him."

Raoul stood there for a moment, studying me. As the seconds ticked by, my brave statement began to feel more and more like a plea. If Raoul decided to keep me away from Erik, there would be nothing I could do to force my way past his physical strength. Finally, his stare lifted with a heavy sigh.

"I can keep Christine busy for about an hour tomorrow." he said quietly, "There's this old lady in the next town that she enjoys visiting. I could convince her to leave you under my supervision while she's gone. After that it is up to you."

I searched for the words to thank him, but could find none that truly expressed my gratitude. He held up a hand to stop the oncoming flow of thankful praise.

"There is no need for thanks" he said calmly, "I can't even say that I approve of what you are doing. If he truly does love you, then perhaps all will be well. I only pray that you know what you are getting yourself into."

And surely enough, he kept his word. Not a word about the incident was spoken after that moment, and Christine went to town the following night, as planned. Raoul sat in a chair reading the newspaper by the light of a lit kerosene lamp. I was wandering about the room, looking at the many little perks that came along with being the new diva. The other diva had been downgraded to my understudy, after which she handed in a letter of resignation and left Paris. The guilty feeling that came with remembering this did nothing to settle my nerves. The clock stuck nine and I jumped. It was time. I sat on the bed, holding my breath in anticipation. Raoul never once looked up from his book. Part of me wondered how it was that he could remain so calm, but I really already knew the answer to that. For one thing, he had his sword resting up against the wall beside him. He had told me that it was simply a prop to convince Christine that I would be safe with him. I had no doubt that he would use it if he deemed it necessary.

Erik's POV-

It was almost comical; watching Selena flit around nervously while the Vicomte sat calmly reading. Almost. I stood behind the secret door, watching them through a little hole. Why was Selena so nervous? Was she afraid? Her unexpected kiss had been the first thing that I had felt in what seemed like forever. My chest still caused me pain, but I was finally warm. I had to be with her again, and there was no force in the universe that would prevent me from doing so, not when she wanted me. The thought was nearly unfathomable, but there was no mistaking the pure desire in her kiss. No one had ever desired me before, and the notion that the beautiful angel I had wanted to hold for so long suffered from that same hunger for myself was awe-inspiring. Raoul's calmness unnerved me for a moment, but then I took the time to really look at him. His lips were moving slowly as he read. He seemed to be completely caught up in the story. As his lips moved faster, I sensed that he was getting to the climax. A smile slowly worked its way across my face. This was an opportunity I couldn't resist. With a wave of my hand, the lamp flickered and went out. I heard the Vicomte softly curse. Victory.

Selena's POV-

The light went out and I held my breath. Soft footsteps sounded from across the room and I carefully stood up. A match struck and the room was soon light again. Raoul stood with his sword in his hand, glaring at Erik, who sneered at him in return.

"What seems to be the problem, Monsieur Vicomte?" he said mockingly, "Do we not have a sense of humor today?"

Raoul grumbled in response and bent to pick his book up. He had apparently dropped it in the hurry to get his sword and had lost his place. As Raoul placed his sword back against the wall, I couldn't help but smile. It was a bit humorous. Erik knew exactly what to do to get on a person's nerves. I crossed the room and looked up at him in playful scorn.

"Can't you even behave for one hour?"

He looked thoughtful.

"I could," he replied, "but what fun would that be?"

I laughed joyfully and threw my arms around him. Reaching up once more with a hesitating heart, I kissed him briefly upon the lips. I was about to pull away when I felt his lips pressing urgently against mine. Never before had I felt such heaven. My soul felt lighter than it had in years and my heart had wings to fly. When we finally pulled apart, he traced my jaw line with his fingertips. We had nearly an hour to be with each other. At first time seemed to be on our side, the clock ticking slowly on as Erik and I sat talking quietly. Then, once the minute hand hit nine-thirty, time seemed to not only slip through our fingers, but to flee from us into the darkening night sky.

All too soon it was time to say goodbye. We clung to one another as if sheer will could prevent Erik's inevitable departure. He turned to go and I tightened my grip upon his arm, fearing that the darkness of the passageway would greedily consume him and take him from me forever.

"Let me come with you." I begged, though I already knew hat his response would be.

Erik looked at me with sadness in his eyes.

"Do not ask that of me." he said solemnly, "My will is not strong enough to deny you, and I would not have you be trapped in darkness as I am."

He took me in his arms and kissed me passionately, promising to return later the next night. That had been our agreement. Raoul (contrary to his statement about not helping us after that night) would pretend to watch over me, and then Erik would come for me after Christine was asleep. It was a good plan, and it did actually work. Erik came for me each night without fail, and we would roam about the opera house. He led me carefully over the rafters, showing me the birds-eye view of things. Sometimes we would make our way up onto the roof, where we would silently watch the stars glisten above us. Once in a while Erik would show me some of the secret passages, taking me into their dark tunnels and pointing out special spots where the walls were thin as paper.

Perhaps others would not have understood the significance of these trips, but I did. Erik was showing me his world. If asked, I could have told someone every single one of his hiding places. With enough people, the police could trap Erik upstairs and then proceed to comb the passages until they found him. Erik and I went to each one of the doors that led downward, but never used them. Not once in the months that we traveled together would he take me even a single level below the surface. The cellars remained foreign to me, and I began to wonder why. I was quite curious about his home, but Erik never said a word. A few times I tried to direct our conversations toward the subject, but Erik was always evasive, constantly distracting my mind with his vast knowledge of the opera. I wanted so much to understand his way of life, to be able to be close to him in all aspects. Yet how could I possibly do that when he kept throwing up walls? I sometimes sensed that there was a lot that he was holding back, that he wanted to tell me but felt that he couldn't. As the one-year marker for our relationship drew near, I began to lose hope of ever gaining Erik's complete trust. Yet I still woke up each morning thinking 'maybe this will be the day, maybe he'll let me see what he's hiding'. But he revealed nothing. Any time that he would relax around me, there was only a small window of time before he became guarded again. How I hated it! Was it asking too much for me to want him to at least loose formality around me? I couldn't remember a time that I had heard him laugh or see his face break out into an unguarded smile. Soon I began to crawl back into my own shell and Erik's nightly visits became very formal. We no longer walked about the opera house and I found that I had less and less to say to him. His visits eventually stopped becoming a nightly routine and instead occurred spontaneously. I could see that Erik was trying to relax, but that only made things worse. He shouldn't have to try! One night we got in an argument about it…

"I wish you would trust me." I said with a sigh.

Erik took a deep breath and closed his eyes, attempting to control his emotions.

"I'm doing the best that I can." he replied quietly.

"Well," I said, becoming emotional myself, "perhaps your best just isn't good enough."

His eyes snapped open and he glared at me.

"Then I'm afraid you're simply going to have to be disappointed."

"Or you could stop hiding things from me."

"If I hide something from you, then it is for your protection!"

By this point we had both stopped whispering and had begun using wild hand gestures to accentuate our points.

"Maybe I don't _want_ to be protected. Did you ever think that maybe I just want to be loved?"

"I **do** love you!"

"You have a funny way of showing it, shutting me out whenever I try to get close to you!"

He looked away.

"Please, Erik, talk to me. Help me to understand."

"You aren't capable of understanding, you don't know what I've been through!"

"I would if you would tell me!"

"You're just like Christine!" he snapped, "You think you need to know everything! You never stop to think that maybe you really don't want to know, that maybe you should just leave me alone!"

I sat staring at him. Never had I seen him act like this. His words cut into me like a knife, but I just sat there, staring at him.

"Why can't anyone just let me be?" he growled in frustration, "Why can't you all just mind your own business and stop prying into my life?!?"

"Is that what you want, Erik? Do you want me to leave you alone?"

He spun around to look at me for a moment, and then left through the secret door, grumbling in anger and defeat. I just sat on the bed, flinching at the loud bang and then staring at the slammed door longingly.

Erik's POV-

I didn't stop until I was home. I sat down heavily upon the edge of the bed and removed my mask. Staring at it, I couldn't help but wonder what Selena saw when she looked at me. Setting it down, I put my face in my hands. Then there was the question that she had asked me. Never before had anyone asked me what I wanted. It was a good question, one that I had to think about before I could come up with the answer. There were so many things that I wanted, things that would seem trivial to anyone else. I wanted to be able to live on the surface, in the sunlight. I wanted to have the freedom to raise a family. I wanted to have a normal face. Then I thought of Selena. I wanted to go back in time, to undo the evils I had done. I wanted to take her into my arms and keep her safe. I wanted to make her famous. I wanted to be the one to make her smile and laugh. No. I wanted to change her past, make it so that she had never met me. I wanted to make her past and future happy, to erase the horrors from her life that made her shiver and hug herself tightly in the night. But, since I could have none of the things I had wanted, I had taken my anger and frustration out on her. There was only one thing that I wanted at the moment. I wanted Selena. She had no way of knowing my reasons for shutting her out. As she herself had said, I had told her nothing. I had told her about what had happened during my time at the opera, but nothing before that. How could I? If she ever learned about my time as a professional assassin…I hated to think how she would run from me then. Not even Christine knew about that. But I had to tell her. The longer that I went without telling her, the worse it would be when I finally gotten around to it. We had known each other almost a year, and still she knew hardly anything about my past. Would she still love me? Would she scream and run? It was time I knew.

The next night, I entered her room to find her lying on the bed in the dark, staring at the wall. She immediately noticed my presence and stood up. I took a few steps toward her and she ran into my arms. Stroking her hair gently, I kissed her lightly upon the head.

"I'm sorry, Selena. I realize now how harsh I was. Please forgive me."

She looked up at me and smiled.

"Always."

My heart gave an uncomfortable tug. She sounded so sincere. Always. Would she still feel that way after tonight? As I led her down the hallways, I prayed to the gods that she would. We got to one of the doorways that led to the cellars and she stopped. I turned toward her and held out my hand. It would be her choice. Selena smiled and took my hand. I led her past the various traps that I had set and made a note to myself to disarm them. I would have rather had a whole army come charging into my home than have Selena hurt herself by running over one of them. I would always be there to keep them from killing her, but she could still twist an ankle or even break a leg falling into them. We arrived at my home and I showed Selena around. I would have told her everything as soon as we arrived, but I was still trying to think of what to say. How do you tell the person you love that they shouldn't love you? Even worse, how do you tell it to them in a manner that won't push them away? In the end, I decided to simply tell her the truth. If she ran away, then I deserved it. The thought of how horrified Selena would be after I told her made me feel sick. For only the second time in my life, I would do the right thing. I only hoped that this time would be different.

Christine's POV-

I lie wide-awake in bed, thinking. How long did the three of them think that they could keep this charade up? I had suspected that something was happening a while back, but my suspicions had been confirmed the night that I saw Erik and Selena slip through a secret passage together. Since then, I had been wondering if I should confront either of them about it. I let my mind grow still and listened for the sound of footsteps next door. Of course I wouldn't be able to hear Erik's quiet steps, but perhaps Selena was a bit louder? Nothing. All I heard was the beautiful silence of the night. That was the only thing that had kept my words of reproach at bay, beauty. I remembered when Erik had come into my life and filled it with beauty, even when everything seemed ugly and tragic. It looked as though he had done the same for Selena. Their relationship was so strange…so special. I wasn't so blind that I couldn't see that they belonged together, but I worried. There were so many things that could go wrong! One word or phrase could spark anger in either of them. They both had unusually rough pasts. I hesitated to judge because I knew so little of their relationship. That was my own fault, and I knew it. If I hadn't forbidden the relationship, then perhaps I could have kept a better watch over it. I had no idea how far their relationship had gone, though I suspected that they were past mere friendship.

I tried to convince myself that I worried needlessly. Selena had met Erik as an adult, not as a frightened little girl. She knew his history, and he had even told her his name. This was something he had not offered me, though our relationship had been much more complicated than his and Selena's was. She did not think him an angelic being, and seemed devoted enough, seeing as how she went behind my back to be with him. I was surprised that Raoul had not told me of their arrangement…he had never understood Erik and the fact that he was siding with him now was quite strange. Perhaps he had a secret motive for doing so, but that was the least of my worries right now. I sat up in bed and slid my legs over the side. Something wasn't right. It might have just been my imagination, but I had to know. If everything were all right, I would give them both my blessing and stay out of it before I did any damage. I went into Selena's room to wake Raoul. If something were wrong, it would take more than just willpower to keep Erik from hurting Selena. I knew all too well how uncontrollable he was when angered. As I opened the door, dread and a sense of foreboding sent chills down my spine. Raoul was gone.

The Fop…err….Raoul's POV-

I felt silly following them. Selena was a grown woman for heaven's sake! But Erik…I didn't know. He was so unpredictable. My foot slipped and I cursed quietly. A single false move down here could mean one's death. I had found that out the hard way last time. It wasn't that I didn't trust Selena's judgment, but Erik loved her. Some might have taken that as an incentive to leave them alone, but not to me. I knew all too well how dangerous he could be when he loved someone. I had promised Christine that I would look after Selena, and that was what I planned to do. She was a sweet girl, and I too had grown fond of her. I thought of how strong the Phantom was compared to her, and my hand tightened on my sword. For Selena's sake, I promised myself that I wouldn't use it unless the circumstances demanded it. I was almost to the end of the stairs when I stopped. Maybe this wasn't the right move. If everything was all right, I certainly didn't want to make the Phantom angry. Turning around, I started back up the stairs. Later on, the memory would play painfully slow in my mind. I took a few steps, five at most, at a moderate speed. Then I heard the scream.

Selena's POV-

Erik led me gently to a table and pulled out a chair, motioning for me to sit. I did as he asked, wondering what he was up to. He sat across from me and for the first time I noticed the sorrow in his eyes. I had seen it before, when he and I believed that we would never see each other again. My breath caught in my throat and I grabbed his hand.

"What is it?" I asked fearfully, "What have I done?"

He looked at me in confusion.

"Nothing. Why would you ask something like that?"

"Your eyes." I said, "Something's wrong. What is it?"

He shook his head and gave me the sad half-smile that always broke my heart.

"You always know, don't you?" he said quietly, "Why did I ever think I could keep this from you? You are much too bright for that. To have thought you wouldn't know was an insult to your intelligence. I apologize, though I warn you that you shouldn't forgive me until you know what I've done."

I was so confused. He looked absolutely miserable, and I couldn't understand why. Erik said that he had done something, but why was he bringing it up now? We were alone together at last. Surely that was all that mattered?

"Erik, whatever it is, I forgive you. There's nothing that you could have done that would change my answer, so why discuss it?"

"You don't know that. What I've done…what I did…I didn't think I had a choice."

I had meant to relieve him, to spare him the feelings he was having, but he didn't seem to want to take the escape route I had offered.

"This isn't necessary. I love you, that's all that matters"

"You might not be so sure of that if you knew. That is why I must tell you, so that you will be sure."

I didn't like this. My love for Erik was the only thing that I was sure of in my life. The thought that something might shake that frightened me. I doubted that such an act existed, but he seemed so sure that my heart began to beat faster.

"I am sure. You don't judge me by my past, so why should I do that to you?"

"That's different" he said softly, "You didn't have any choice in that situation."

"Yes I did. I could have kept fighting, but instead I chose to lessen the pain by giving in."

"You chose to live! There's a difference!"

"No, there isn't. You and I are the same. In no way am I more pure than you."

"In no way? You are more pure than me by default! I was cursed at birth with the mark of the devil!"

He stood up and paced about the room. I couldn't help but sigh in exasperation. How many times was he going to play that card?

"Erik, stop being overly dramatic. I understand that you were treated unfairly because of it, but don't you think perhaps people were more afraid of being murdered? I highly doubt that they treated you that way just for a simple deformity."

He froze. I realized that maybe I had gone too far, down playing his isolation. Getting up from the table, I started toward him. He turned around, anger flooding his eyes and turning them to ice. I stopped in mid-step.

"So," he said in an eerily calm voice, "you think I exaggerate, do you?"

I couldn't speak or move. I was frozen in place, praying that the memories would go no further than that look of anger, so similar to that of Erik's. The only thing it was missing was rage. Rage, and maybe a little hatred. He stepped close to me and I wished that he could hear my thoughts, begging him to stop.

"Is THIS exaggerating?"

He ripped of his mask and I stepped back in shock. It was worse than I ever would have imagined. Erik grabbed my arm roughly and put his face mere centimeters from mine.

"So you think that you can do that to me and get away with it, do you?"

A voice that wasn't Erik's filled my mind. I wanted to speak, to beg Erik to let me go, but it was too late. I was trapped in my memories.

"I house you for years and this is how you repay me?"

No, any other memory of Destry's cruelty, but not that one. Not that night!

"Scream." a distant voice demanded.

"Go ahead little missy, Scream, see if anyone comes to your rescue." Destry again.

I felt his hands on me, holding me in place. I couldn't run! But I had to run, I had to get away! He dragged me over to a wall and slammed me up against it. My head throbbed from the impact and the scenery swam before my eyes. Destry let go with one hand (strange, the pressure was still there…) and I heard his pants drop.

"Scream!" the voice demanded again.

Destry laughed.

"You won't scream, you know no one will come. There's a good girl. Just hold still now."

NO! I had to scream! I had to let somebody know! Danger! I was in danger!

Destry held something long and thick in his hand. He lifted my dress…

"SCREAM!" the voice shouted at me.

I screamed and Destry hit me. I went flying across the room and hit another wall. Pain. Immense pain. Then He came near me again with the thick object, which I now saw was connected to his body. I realized then what it was, and I screamed. But I hadn't screamed. I hadn't been able to; he had covered my mouth with his hand. But I _was_ screaming. There the pain was, the dreaded pain that now knew to expect but hadn't then. The pain was too overwhelming. I whimpered in horror as my blood pooled on the floor. My mind went haywire. Two sides verbally argued as they had been in my mind for years.

I wanted my mother!

My mother was dead.

I was going to die! I couldn't go through such pain and live! What was happening to me? The headlines flooded my mind with stories. There it was. That was what was happening! I had to scream!

I already had screamed.

I had to tell someone what it was!

After so long, who would believe you? The only person who did believe you just hit you.

But they had to believe me! Someone besides Erik had to believe the truth!

No they didn't.

But it wasn't my fault!

Says who? You gave up, remember?

But someone has to know!

Know what? There's nothing to tell. You had sex with the man and then miscarried.

No! I didn't have sex with him! I didn't!

What was it then?

I opened my eyes, sat up, and shouted as loud as I could.

"RAPE! IT WAS RAPE!"

Pain shot through my head, and I saw and heard no more.


	10. Why So Silent?

Raoul's POV-

I sat there in her room, staring at my hands. It had all been so colorful…so horrifying. I had walked into the room to see Selena unconscious. She had been hit and had gone flying into the wall. Moments went by and then she screamed again. I picked her up and brought her back to the surface. The Phantom was nowhere to be seen. Selena was silent for several days, and then she sat straight up and yelled. I looked at Christine for some sort of explanation, but she simply paled and hurried from the room. The battle in Selena's mind was a mystery to us all. The doctors said that she should be fine once she woke up, but they could not give us an estimate as to how long that would be. As the days progressed, Christine and I began to worry. It was sad, but we were the only ones who seemed concerned about her. Selena had an understudy, so the managers and audience weren't upset. The Phantom hadn't even bothered to see if he had killed her. The only response to Selena's comatose state was a letter. A letter that was as confusing as it was warming. A man appeared at Selena's door and handed me a letter. It asked about Selena, how she was and what exactly was ailing her. The writer claimed to be an admirer of hers.

The next day, the stranger came back, bearing no letter. Instead he had a stack of parchment and a pencil. I stood blocking the doorway.

"What do you want?" I asked suspiciously.

He didn't say anything, just looked down and started writing. I was starting to get annoyed.

'May I come in?' he wrote.

I stared. What on earth was going on here? Who was this man? Why didn't he speak? He was writing again!!

'I apologize for the awkwardness, but I cannot speak. An accident has made me mute.'

I felt my cheeks warm with embarrassment. Not everyone had an ulterior motive. Some people were just….people. I waved him in silently. He entered the room as quiet as a mouse and sat down on a chair beside Selena's still form. I stood pacing about the room for several hours. Selena hadn't moved, and neither had the stranger. Then, when the sunlight was almost gone from the sky, she stirred.

Selena's POV-

I woke up feverish, with my head pounding. It was a miserable feeling, but better than the nightmare that I'd been reliving in my sleep. For a moment, I couldn't remember why my head hurt so badly. Then it all came rushing back, and I groaned. I didn't open my eyes, for fear of what I would find. Would Erik be there, glaring at me again? Or would he not be anywhere in the vicinity, having given up on me. I didn't know which would be worse, but I still felt his ice-cold gaze boring through me in accusation. A cool material dabbed my face comfortingly, and I forced my eyes open. My mind was immediately filled with a strange sense of calm. The man sitting beside me was a stranger, but that didn't seem to be important. His eyes were a deep brown, the color of chocolate. Filled with concern, they slowly cleared the razor-sharp image of Erik's enraged ones from my mind. The man was fairly young, his face filled with innocence and trust. With his slightly shaggy dark brown hair, his whole appearance reminded me of a puppy. I hadn't said a word to him, but already I saw certain personality traits show in his face; trustworthiness and an instinct to trust those around him, kindness, a tender heart, loyalty and eagerness, someone who could be terribly hurt but was quick to forgive. He appeared to be a complete sweetheart. I couldn't help but smile at him. He smiled gently back, and I got the strangest feeling that everything would be okay. I didn't know how, but it would.

Laughing at myself, I realized that I didn't even know the man's name.

"Who are you?" I whispered.

He didn't answer me, but instead grabbed a stack of parchment lying on the bedside table. After a moment of silent writing, he held the parchment out for me to look at.

'My name is Kevin. I'm an avid admirer of yours.' it said.

I was about to ask why he didn't speak aloud, when I saw an earlier entry on the page. He was a mute, how sad. It reminded me of how frightened I had been after the accident. I could have ended up just like Kevin. When I stood up to greet him properly, everything blurred and started to spin. I expected the next feeling would be the cold smack of doing a face plant into the wooden floor. Kevin's arms shot out and caught me.

'Please don't move me' I thought weakly, 'You seem like a nice guy, and I would reeeeealy rather not hurl all over you.'

It was as if he could hear me. Kevin sat on the floor and lowered me to where I was in his lap, my head resting gently on his shoulder. He put a cold cloth gently against my head and held it there. I closed my eyes, and Erik's came back into view. A few tears rolled down my cheeks as I realized what had happened. Kevin wiped them away with the cloth and I opened my eyes. He was staring at me, his beautiful eyes filled with concern and hesitation, wanting to know but not wanting to pry. The tears that I had pushed down rose up once more to fill my eyes and blur my vision.

"He hit me." I whispered in shock, "He _hit_ me."

Kevin reached up and sadly stroked the swollen side of my face. It stung and I flinched. What was I doing sitting in this man's lap? Why wasn't I running? He was a man! I should run! Kevin saw the fear in my eyes and shook his head. His eyes said to trust him, that everything would be all right, that he wouldn't let anyone hurt me. I burst into tears and he held me close, stroking my hair gently and being careful to avoid the knot that felt twice the size of my head.

'Don't cry.' a voice in my head said, 'You don't have the right to cry!'

Erik. The voice that had once been so soothing now was a source of terror.

The tears had dried on my face, making my face feel sticky. My eyes were hot and itchy from crying, and my head buzzed like a hive of bees. I noticed these things later, but at the moment my mind was preoccupied. As I wrote, the whole incident played out like a badly written drama. Kevin had said that I could just tell him, but the truth was that I physically couldn't. If I had thought that writing it would have made the memory any less realistic, then I would have been wrong. I saw the pure rage in Erik's eyes as he pulled off his mask. Then, as I stood in shocked silence, he told me to scream. After a few times, I did. He hit me and I flew into a wall. He was so strong! I had once been glad of it, as he would have protected me. Now it simply added to my terror of him. All through the incident I had been speechless, stuck in the memory of Destry. What would I say to Erik now, if ever given the chance? Would he understand? I doubted it. I had wronged him, and I wanted more than anything to apologize. There might have been an excuse for the misunderstood scream, but not for minimizing his pain. Why had I done that? WHY? I had loved him, how could I be so cruel as to not believe him? Betrayal. There was no other word for what I had done; yet somehow I felt betrayed as well. In all the time that I had known him, I never would have imagined that he would physically lash out at me. I handed Kevin the parchment and thought about it for a minute. There was really no need for forgiveness on my part; Erik was the one who had been hurt first. The painful repercussions were my fault, not his. I was only glad that I had not been stupid enough to tell Kevin his name. I had only written 'a friend', which was true. I hoped with all of my might that Erik and I might at least be able to work up to that level again. There was no doubt in my mind that, at the moment, Erik considered me an enemy. A traitor.

Kevin looked up at me with sadness and confusion in his eyes. He knew that there was much that I had left out. I felt like I had already told him too much, and the thought of him asking for the whole story made me nervous. He remained still, simply studying me with his big brown eyes. There was a knock at the door and my heart nearly stopped, thinking that I had been caught in the act of looking at Kevin that way. Raoul walked in and I released a sigh laden with all the emotion of the past few weeks. This had to end, and soon. I couldn't have the guilt of looking at someone besides Erik on my conscience. The only thing that I was guilty of in that respect was appreciating the beauty of another human being, nothing more. At least, that was what I so desperately tried to convince myself of. Kevin took my hand and kissed it lightly in a gesture of farewell. I smiled and said goodbye. As he walked through the door, I hoped that I would never see him again. The last thing that I needed was someone to stir up strange emotions in me. Erik was doing a good enough job at that to last me ten lifetimes. Raoul sat down in a cushioned chair to watch over me, and was soon asleep. It was quite late, but that didn't matter. There was only one person that I needed to see, and I knew that he would be awake for many more hours.

Poor Raoul had not moved from his post at the door, deep asleep for what was probably the first time in several days. I slipped past him and hurried to the stairs. The first few steps that I took were slow and careful, feeling in the dark with my feet to find the next stair. After a minute I lit a torch, confident that no one had followed me. Erik would never forgive me if I led someone down there, and neither would I. The light from the countless candles he always kept lit was visible from the dark doorway. I walked in to see Erik sitting at the organ, bent over in deep concentration. He suddenly stopped, his hand hanging above the parchment in front of him.

"What do you want?" he asked sullenly.

Words formed in my mouth, only to die silently on my lips. There was so much that I wanted to say, but none of it seemed appropriate for the moment.

"You should not be up at this hour. I do not want you to be half asleep at tomorrows lessons."

My jaw dropped slightly. Lessons. Was that really all that he could think of right then, or was he just being evasive?

"If you have something to say, then get on with it. I am a busy man."

What had gotten into him? He wouldn't even turn to look at me! I opened my mouth to speak, and he turned around.

"Well?"

The cold look in his eyes clamped my throat shut, guilt making every practiced apology seem infinitesimal. It seemed as though there were really no words for what I had done. He was glaring at me now, and my legs tuned to liquid. I was afraid.

"Go," he said scornfully, "and never again return to this place. You are no longer welcome here."

I turned and ran all the way back to my room. The fire from the torch blurred and I stumbled on the stairs many times before I reached the top. Was something wrong with my eyes? They stung as I climbed, reacting to the fire's fumes. I put it out before entering the room and walked slowly toward the bed. My reflection in the mirror caught my eye, and I stood staring at it. The girl in the mirror confirmed what I had already known. My eyes were not reacting to the fire of the torch, but the icy flame of Erik's words. That dangerous fire had always been there, and Erik and I had played with it, enjoying the excitement and energy we got from the game. Then we had gotten careless, and the fire had burnt us both badly. The clock stuck midnight, the anniversary of our first meeting, and I flung myself down upon the bed, weeping softly into the pillow. Erik had lashed out at me with the fire, and though the flame was gone, the wound burned deep into my soul. As the weeks went by, I realized that Erik had started a new game, one that I didn't know how to play. Day after day he burned me with the fire, lashing out with words and tones of hatred and disgust. All he cared about was the quality of my voice, driving it ever onward and upward. I became like a puppet, singing at his command and taking his criticism and scorn without comment or complaint. Puppets do not fight against a cruel maters hand, and neither did I. The only comfort I had was from Kevin, who came to see me at least three times a week, always sneaking in late at night. Erik no longer showed himself to me, but I did not comment on that either, and began addressing him as 'Sir' or 'Maestro', which seemed to please him to some extent.

Christine and Raoul said nothing about the pain they found in my eyes, somehow understanding that this relationship I had with Erik, however unhealthy, was the only thing that kept me going. Kevin, however, had no such understanding. He asked about how things were between Erik and I, and I told him the truth. Astonishment filled his gentle face when I first told him, and he could not write fast enough to portray the fury that caused his eyes to flash. All I could do was smile sadly and place my hand upon his trembling one. His head jerked up and he waved his arms around angrily, frustrated by his silent tongue. Every time that he saw me, he wanted to shout, to wipe the numb tolerance off of my face. Poor Kevin, he refused to listen to me when I tried to explain. He refused to think that he could feel anything like pity for Erik, and the hatred he felt toward him showed on his face each time I said Erik's name. But how could he understand when I had told him nothing except that Erik knew nothing but man's hatred for him? How could he understand the bond that Erik and I shared, however deeply buried it might have been at the moment? No, the only person who truly knew what it was like to be hated by everyone they met was Erik. I too knew that feeling, but only to a certain degree. Even so, I missed the complete understanding that we had shared…the complete trust. As time stretched on, I wondered if I would ever have so much as a simple conversation with my friend ever again.


	11. The Brave New Suitor

Erik's POV-

Hatred grew in my heart like a weed; killing every other feeling I had known. There was no love and there was no fear, only anger and hate. The foolish girl thought that I was blind to her nightly activities, but I knew everything! I knew how the boy came into her room more than her own cousin. I saw how her face lit up every time that she saw him. I saw how she did not use her voice around him, but wrote everything down, just as he was forced to do. I saw it all, and I hated it with every fiber of my being. She disobeyed me when after I told her to stop seeing him, foolishly assuming that I would not see them or hear them whispering under the stars deep into the night. When I asked her about the rings underneath her eyes, she avoided my eyes and claimed lack of sleep. How stupid did she think that I was? Every day I felt my control over her slipping. I had to do something to remind her that she belonged to me, that she was under my command and no one else's. I would lengthen the practice sessions. Yes. I would make them so long that she would be too tired to even think of sneaking off at night!

A clever plan like this would have once made me smile, but I only rose from my chair and went upward toward her room. There was neither joy nor even pride in my heart for this moment of triumph. There was only hatred toward the boy for interfering and anger toward her for disobeying my orders. I had been mad a fool of once before, when Christine ran off with the Vicomte. Now I was being taunted once again. I could not change the past, could not take back the foolish tears I had shed. I had been playing a game of hearts then, and I had lost. The game had also been lost with Selena. But this was a different game, and she would soon realize that I would not loose. For if the Phantom looses in the game of possession, the winner is soon eliminated. Selena was mine, and she alone would choose whether or not I would follow the rules.

Selena's POV-

I sat on the bed, silently listening to him tighten the leash around my neck with his words. Had I thought he didn't know, you ask? Of course he knew! Never for a moment had I been foolish enough to think that I had been secretly disobeying him. It just seemed more… 'polite' to sneak. Going against his orders in broad daylight would have been an insult. He wanted the lessons to become more frequent, using the excuse that my voice was slipping. Ha! As if I didn't know that he was just trying to keep me from seeing Kevin. Did he truly think that I was that stupid? No, of course not. This was all part of the new game we were playing. Well, I was starting to learn how to play too. I would find a way to see Kevin, lessons or no. Then he said the hours in which we would be practicing, and I gasped. Had he completely LOST his mind?!?!? What did he think I was, a music box? I had to eat and sleep! It didn't matter that singing had long since lost its magic. He didn't care. But after a few days with that much practice, my voice would be too exhausted to sing even if I had a knife held to my throat!

"Is there a problem?" he asked in a dangerous voice, "Perhaps you have something else planned?"

No. He wasn't getting a confession that easily.

"Why, of course not!" I answered with a forced smile, "Whatever would I have planned? You yourself told me not to see anyone!"

"Indeed." he said slowly.

Apparently he hadn't expected me to play his little game.

'How sad,' I thought bitterly, 'I've not been invited to the fun.'

At least Kevin and I would have one more night together. Surely if I played along and pretended not to care, Erik would let me act like a human being again? I did so hate it when he chose to be obstinate. We had often played little games like this in the past. I would do something (or not do something) and he would become angry with me. He would try to get me to tell him, but I would dance around it, making up little stories and acting completely innocent. The game would go on until one of us said something absolutely ridiculous, to which both of us would smile and I would apologize. This was different. There would be no smiling in the end, and it had been a long time since I had felt like apologizing. I came back to the present when Erik cleared his throat and made his final move.

"Since you have nothing planned, the new schedule will start first thing tonight at the usual time."

My face fell. This wasn't right. He hadn't ever done this before. Did he truly feel so threatened be Kevin's presence in my life? He laughed. It was a cruel laugh, one that I never would have expected to come from him. There was no doubt of it, Erik had changed.

Erik's POV-

There was the initial look of shock, and then her face fell in disappointment. My mind conjured up a picture of a chessboard, with the two of us on opposing sides. Her face showed disbelief as I made an unforeseen move, and then defeat as I uttered a wonderful word. I laughed and smiled at her expression, then turned and whispered the word aloud as I went.

"Checkmate."

Selena's POV-

Three weeks. It had been three weeks of this insanity, and my voice was crying out for rest. Erik kept it going with special remedies, and I had begun to hate him for it. Not just for what he had done to my voice, but to my spirit as well. I began to understand why Kevin's eyes flashed every time that he thought of Erik. I picked up a vase and threw it across the room. It hit the mirror and the glass shattered, distorting my reflection. I cried out in frustration. He would kill me for what I was planning to do. I sat up and stared off into space, wide-eyed. Would he? I had just thought it as an expression, but who knew? This had to stop. It had to stop now, tonight. Kevin had asked me to meet him on the rooftop, and I was going. Ditching my lessons to be with Kevin might not have ordinarily been something I would worry about, but that wasn't all. I was in love with him. Erik knew that I was fond of Kevin, but did he know the full extent of my emotions? Since Kevin was still alive, I thought the chances of that were fairly slim.

Over the past year, we had grown closer. Erik drove me away with his cold cruelty, and he always chased me right into Kevin's arms. My footsteps quickened as I hurried up the stairs to meet him. I forced myself to slow down, remembering the words that I had to say to him. Erik would kill Kevin if he found out about our relationship, and I could not let that happen. Why did life always have to be so difficult? Couldn't everyone just get along with one another for once? Of course not, that would be much too easy. The rules of life forced me to keep walking upward, to stand and look into Kevin's eyes. He walked over to me, his eyes burning with energy. Kevin never rushed toward me or kissed me when he first saw me. He always had a kind of natural restraint, one that wouldn't let him even think of such things. His kisses were soft and sweet, never too prolonged.

He bowed at the waist and kissed my hand in greeting. I smiled. It was so refreshing to be around a gentleman. We walked to the roof's edge and looked up at the stars. I turned to look at him and saw that Kevin had bright stars of his own sparkling in his eyes. He took out his writing utensils and asked me questions about how I had been the past few weeks. I wrote fast and hard, telling him of my constant frustration with Erik.

'You don't have to be frustrated if you don't want to.' he wrote.

What was that supposed to mean? He saw my confused look and wrote another line.

'Do I frustrate you Selena?'

I laughed. Why would he ever ask such a thing? His face turned deadly serious and the laughter died in my throat.

'Do you hate him?'

I stared at the sentence dumbly. I had been asking myself the same question for almost a year, but still did not know the answer.

'There is a way out of this,' he wrote, 'if you would take it.'

A way out. I was afraid to look up at him, afraid that he didn't really have the solution. Kevin took my hand and looked into my eyes. He had something in his hand, but I couldn't see what it was. I watched as he got to his feet and knelt before me, a silver ring set with diamonds and rubies pinched in his fingers. That was it, the only way to freedom. Kevin never took his eyes off of me, waiting for a visual clue. I looked down at him and smiled. We would be together at last, with no rules to keep us apart. He slid the ring onto my finger and kissed me lightly upon the lips. It was wonderful the way he could show so much passion with such a light touch. That touch was mine now, and I didn't ever have to worry about being away from him. The clock stuck midnight once more. Two years. Now that night would have a different meaning, one that didn't cause me pain. I leaned my head against Kevin's chest, pushing Erik from my thoughts forever.

Erik's POV-

I stormed from the depths of the cellars, fuming. She would pay for this. They both would. She betrayed me, and what did she do afterward? Did she pace the floor, thinking of how to explain her absence from practice? No! She slept. SLEPT! Soundly! Well, she wouldn't be asleep much longer! I would find the best way to make her pay for this. The foolish wimp of a man would have to be disposed of, but that should be easy. If she thought that I was simply going to kill the whelp and let her of free of punishment, then she was wrong. Oh how she was wrong. Dead wrong in fact. The halls echoed with my laughter. She would not die, but she would wish for death. I would torture her with words and images. The man whose ring she now wore would die before her eyes, slowly and painfully. I had all the time in the world for this, so why shouldn't I make it enjoyable? I smiled silently as I crept up behind him. He spun around and his mouth opened in a silent scream. This was wonderful.

Selena's POV-

I stretched my arms to the sky and yawned. It was funny; I'd never been able to sleep this long without Erik wakening me. Perhaps he'd taken the hint and backed off? Never. That would be forfeiting the game! I smiled. Kevin had assured that I would never have to play Erik's games again. It was a good thought, and I showed no remorse for the fact that I would never see Erik again. There was no doubt of it, I hated him. Maybe I hadn't at first, but I certainly did now. Walking to the door, I hummed a gentle tune. A letter was waiting when I opened it. My heart skipped a beat and my blood turned cold. It was in Erik's handwriting. There was only one reason why he would have written to me instead of telling me first-hand. He knew.

Dear Selena,

It seems that you have given up on our little game. How sad. Do you only play if you can win without a fight? Very well. We will play your new game. I warn you, the game that you have started playing is a dangerous one. Or did you not know that? You certainly did not think that I would let you go off without letting me make my move, did you? If so, then I am disappointed. Why did you not tell me that we were to have a new playmate? This particular game is much more interesting with three players, I can assure you. By the time you read this, your friend and I will be much better acquainted with one another. I doubt that he will enjoy my company, for his role in this game is not too pleasant. Poor boy. He probably had no idea who his opponent was when he fought for you did he? No matter. He is well aware of who I am by now. I should also tell you that the goal of this game has changed. Before you brought this third player into the mix, it was simply a battle of wills. Then he entered the game, wanting you as the winning prize. He still fights for you, but I believe that my prize is yet to be named. I asked for your obedience, and that would have been enough. Now, I fear that I shall be slightly harder to please. Come, for I have chosen to make my home the final battleground. Do not come intending to win, for that is not the purpose of this particular battle. You have already lost. The only thing to be determined is the extent of your loss. Choose carefully, for your move determines both your fates.

I stared at the letter. Had I made the wrong decision in accepting Kevin's proposal? No. Even if I had refused, Erik would never have been satisfied. I descended slowly into the darkness of the cellars. Erik was no more. The being that had been my acquaintance for the past year was not the friend that I had once known. The master of these cruel games was not Erik, but the Phantom. At one time I had thought that they were one, but I was wrong. Erik would never be my enemy, but the Phantom stirred hatred within me that had been buried deep since the day that I had escaped Destry. He claimed that I could not win, but I would. Never again would I stand by and let a man overtake me by force and manipulation. The Phantom would be the one to lose. He would lose a voice. Sadness softened my heart for a moment, as the realization of my current loss finally sank in. Somewhere amidst my faded screams, in the war inside him between love hate and fear, I had lost a very dear friend. One that I knew would never return. I stepped into the Phantom's home, took a deep breath, and said goodbye… to Erik.


	12. Either Way You Choose, You Cannot Win

Kevin was tied to a chair in the middle of the room, struggling to get loose. I ran to him and he looked at me, wide-eyed. The knots that held him in place were expertly done. No matter how hard I tried to work them apart with my fingers, all I got for my efforts was a few broken nails. He jerked his head downward, motioning toward the pocket in his pants. I reached inside and found a small knife. Putting it against the rope, I started to cut him free. Maybe we could get out before Erik came out, escape the opera house and flee Paris.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you."

The Phantom's voice echoed throughout the room, but he was hidden from sight, lurking somewhere in the shadows. I stopped cutting and cautiously looked around. If I could locate him, it would be easier to feel brave and for the anger in my heart to flare up again. Perhaps he knew this, for there was no sign of him.

"What do you want of me?" I asked quietly, knowing that he would hear.

"Hmm." he said in mocking contemplation, "Whatever could I want of you? Should we ask your companion? No doubt he has several ideas going through his head at the moment."

Kevin looked around with a poisonous glare, willing his stare to kill the hidden speaker.

"It's too bad that we cannot ask for his opinion, I would so love to hear it. But we could not risk the opportunity that he would be given with his hands untied to write."

The mockery never left the Phantom's voice, and my anger rose steadily with each stab at Kevin's and my helplessness. This had gone far enough, but still he continued with his game.

"Maybe you should have selected company with a more useful means of communication. The voice, after all, is one of man's greatest gifts."

"I suppose that you would see yourself as better company?" I jabbed.

"Infinitely," he replied, "although it seems that you thought otherwise since given a choice."

"Choice?" I remarked, "What choice? If you had given me a choice, then we wouldn't be having this lovely discussion."

"Oh, but you most certainly did have a choice my dear." he said quietly, "If you thought otherwise, then you would not be wearing that pretty trinket on your hand."

His voice sent chills up my spine. It would have been wise to tread more carefully, but each word he spoke only convinced me more of my need to end it all.

"I trained your voice so that you might rise to the highest cloud." he said, as if remembering a dream, "With my training, you would have made even the angels in Heaven turn green with envy. But you repay me for this how? By planning to run off with some ignorant little-"

That was enough. It was time.

"With the man I love." I interrupted, "I am marrying the man that I love. You have no right to criticize him. As for running off, yes, I am leaving. Too many times have I been subject to your games. Kevin has offered me a life free of games, jealousy, and paranoid psychopaths who flit in and out of shadows! I have the chance to be with a flesh and bone man again, not a bodiless voice commanding that every aspect of my life involve him!"

He was silent. Finally, I had said the words that had been sitting on the tip of my tongue for so long.

"In other words, he has offered me a life free from you. Perhaps with him I may have the chance to show my emotion, happy or sad. He will not command me like a master drives his slaves, but will love me as a husband and a friend."

I cut the ropes holding Kevin in place, and we ran.

Over the next few days, Kevin stayed by my side as long as possible. He carried a sword with him wherever he went; always ready to fight for the right to marry me. I just could not truly believe that the Phantom had let us go. There had to be a catch of some sort. But what? The day of the wedding drew closer and closer, and still there was no sign of retaliation. Kevin wanted to escape while we still had the freedom to do so, to dodge the Phantom's final move. Only weeks before, I would have jumped at the chance. But now that things were at the critical point, something held me back. Was it curiosity? It wasn't cold feet before the wedding, of that I was positive. No, what kept me so close to danger's grasp was my dreams. I had been relieved when sleep came over the past few months, as it was the only place that the Phantom could not enter. Why was I dreaming of him now? My mind brought his voice back as clearly as if he had been standing beside me. Several times I had sat up and searched the room, expecting to see him standing there, looking at me. If only my mind had conjured up the horrors of the past year. Instead, it filled me with a longing for peace. I dreamt of how things once were, and how his emerald eyes once melted my heart. It seemed so wrong to end things this way, but I saw no alternative. Erik was long gone, replaced by the cold stranger who filled my heart with fear.

Erik's POV-

Hot or cold? My body couldn't seem to decide. I shook from lack of heat, yet my veins felt as if they had liquid fire racing through them again. As if that was not miserable enough, my head felt as if it were being squeezed. This was not new to me, but it seemed worse as of late. I forced my stiff fingers to curl around the pen in front of me. The pain grew worse with each breath I took; yet I knew that I had to do this. Selena was sleeping peacefully upstairs, and I longed to run to her, to beg her to stay. Instead, I wrote a letter that would send her down the isle toward the man she truly loved, free of any guilt I had inflicted upon her. The letter was soon finished, and I stared at it for a few minutes. Part of me wished that I could have seen her that day, dressed in white like a delicate rose. Of course, that would have been highly inappropriate. It would also have been a sight that I did not think my heart could take. Fortunately I would not have to worry about the temptation it presented. If my health kept on the steady decline that it had started since I cast Selena out of my home little over a year ago, I would be too ill to journey to the surface. The letter soon sat waiting for Selena to find it, and I left her to her dreams.

Selena's POV-

I woke at a fairly reasonable hour. The first thing that I noticed when I opened my eyes was the letter, bright white against the dark wooden floor. Without looking at the bottom to see whom the writer was, I knew it would be Erik. Don't ask me how I knew, I just did. There wasn't much, just a few lines. I read it at least ten times before the words connected in my mind. It was as if my whole being was rejecting what was written there.

Dear Selena,

I hope this letter finds you well. However deplorable my behavior as of late, I am afraid that I can give no explanation. Though I know you do not need it, you have my complete approval on your choice of husband. He cares for you, and has certainly proven his ability to protect you from those who might wish you harm. It is on that note that I must withdraw from the great intrusion that I have made upon your life. I deeply regret that I have cast such a dark shadow over your happiness. Be assured that your happiness is the foremost priority to me. Such as it is, I can only pray that my services in regard to your voice will prove useful. Enclosed in this envelope is a gift that I hope you will accept. It carries with it no trace of bondage or obligation to me. I send it with a wish that you would take it in remembrance of me. If you do not wish to retain any memory of our time together, I shall certainly understand. No offense will be taken if you choose to dispose of it. I only ask that you do not ever try to return it to me, for this is the final farewell. Any further contact with me could prove disastrous, and should be avoided at all costs. But you did not need to be told this. Clever as you are, you came to that realization long ago. It is by my own folly that you were not free to escape me sooner. I send you and your fiancé my deepest apologies for being the cause of so much difficulty in your courtship. Goodbye, Selena. Be happy. Be safe. And happy birthday.

Tears blurred the words on the page, and I put my hand to my mouth to quiet the escaping sobs. The gift of which Erik had spoken in the letter was a pin. It had a back piece made of gold, and the design of the pin was a rose. The rose was constructed of a diamond (making it a white rose…), and the delicate stem and tiny leaves were the same color emerald as his eyes. Staring at the beautiful gift, I realized, to my distress, that I was still in love with Erik. How had I ever thought that I wasn't? It was true that the attitude that he had taken over the past year, that of the Phantom, repelled me. It was also true that the sad sincerity with which Erik had written the note I now held in my hands made me long to be in his arms. I couldn't marry Kevin in this state, but neither could I hurt him by going back to Erik, which would also be entering a strange sort of battlefield. At one time, I had thought that I had been strong enough to weather that battlefield. Perhaps that had been true at the time, but not now. The only solution was to leave both men behind and start a new life elsewhere. I was not even able to convince myself that I could do that, let alone convince Kevin. Everything I knew and loved was here at this opera house. Would I really be able to just walk out on all that had ever been good in my life? Where would I go? I couldn't go home, that was for sure. People don't easily forget a good story, and mine would follow me like a dog does its master. Maybe the answers would come later, but for now I had to talk to Kevin. There was a wedding to cancel.

We met on the rooftop after nightfall, just as we always used to do. Erik's pin sparkled gently in the moonlight. Kevin came slowly toward me, still as much of a gentleman as always. How those brown eyes looked at me! I still thought of a puppy when I looked at him. Reaching my hands out, I took his and held them to my lips. He looked at me questioningly.

'What's wrong?' he wrote.

I took the pencil from his hand and told him about Erik's letter. It was concealed within my clothing, but I didn't dare give it to him for fear that he would tear it up. The look in his eyes when he stopped reading confirmed my thoughts. He reached out and wrapped his hand around the pin, as if to rip it off. I cried out, but he jerked his hand back and stared at his palm. The pin had poked him and a tiny drop of blood appeared on the surface of his skin. How symbolic.

'I thought that you hated him.' Kevin wrote.

I looked at him with sadness in my eyes.

"So did I." I said softly.

That was the first that I had spoken to him since the first day we met. He stared at me, waiting for an explanation.

"I thought that I hated him, but I really only hated what he was doing to the relationship we had worked so carefully to build. I hated the way he treated me, as if I was a slave instead of a friend. But in truth the hatred spawned from my love for him. Now that I realize that, and now that he has somehow returned to his senses, I can't just turn my back on him. To do so would be the same as betraying the memory of what we once shared, of what, perhaps, we still do share; our love for music and our love for one another. I do love you Kevin, but I can't hurt him this way. If I did, I think it would destroy him. Please don't look at me like that. I don't mean to be cruel, I truly don't, but doing this would be the same as running a sword through him. Maybe you think that I am speaking figuratively. I assure you that I am not. He almost died once, right before my eyes. To walk away and leave him to die…I can't imagine what that would be like. I'm sorry Kevin, but I can't marry you."

He turned from me and leaned heavily against a statue, his eyes covered by his arm. I heard him softly sobbing and my heart broke in two. This was so wrong! Under normal circumstances we would be getting married in a few days. I walked to him and gently turned him to face me. Tears streamed down his face and his eyes were closed in defeat. Using a corner of my shawl to wipe the tears from his cheeks, I was surprised when the cloth came away tainted with a brown stain. Kevin's skin was clean, but his tears were dark, creating dark streaks down his face. What on earth was going on? He opened his eyes and looked up at me in misery. But it wasn't the misery in his eyes that caught my attention. It was his eye color. The eyes that I had become so used to seeing had changed. No longer were they the deep rich brown of chocolate. What color, to my immense surprise, did I see? Emerald. Only one man's eyes were so brilliant, and I stepped back in shock and disbelief.

"Erik?"

He blinked in confusion for a moment, and then raised his hand to wipe the dye from his face. When he saw the brown stain on his fingers, Erik looked up at me, surprise filling every inch of his face.

"Selena…I…." he stuttered quietly.

I raised my hand back and smacked him as hard as I could. He stumbled back and I turned on my heel, walking briskly toward the door. Never before had I felt so insulted. Tears of shame, embarrassment, and sadness rose quickly to my eyes. I had been fool enough to think that two men loved me, and now I had come to the harsh realization that no one loved me. My plan remained the same, as it had been when I'd made the trip to the roof. Although my motives were different, I would leave the opera house and perhaps even Paris. No. I stopped in the hallway, my face set in determination. This was what he wanted, to have the power to force me from the only true home that I had known for a long time. Never again would I allow Erik to manipulate or make a fool out of me. I was staying, and I would rise to the top of the singing world. My name would someday be on the tip of every important tongue. Everyone would want me to sing for them, and I alone would make the decision of who would have the honor of borrowing it. If I ever heard of, from, or saw Erik again, it would be too soon. Over the next few weeks I was handed several letters, all of them from famous composers, begging for the use of my voice. I spent the days humming contentedly to myself. Soon six weeks had passed with no calamities and no sign of Erik. As I put my head down on my soft pillow, I was finally at peace with myself. At last, everything would be all right.


	13. I Gave You My Mind Blindly

The dream had forced its way into my subconscious once more. It had been torturing me for over a week. Even when I was exhausted from rehearsals, the dream still caused me to pace the floor in fear and anxiety. What did it mean? Why was I so afraid when the dream made no sense? The dream began the same way each time. I walked down a dark corridor; the slow and steady beat of my heart sounding in my ears. Suddenly, andwithout reason, I turned. An eerie light illuminated a roughly carved number on a door, 4293. Everything around me was pitch black. The corridor was several stories down, in the fourth cellar. I opened the door and the eerie light revealed a small room. My heart sped up as the light landed on a red bed sheet lying on the floor. In the middle of the sheet was a white rose, crushed to pieces. I touched it and found that the rose was not quite dead yet, so I picked it up. The flower disappeared and so did the light, casting me into complete darkness. Something was pulling me backward, toward the room. I fought the shapeless mass, and finally freed myself from its grasp. My heartbeat rose until that was all I heard. Then, out of the silence arose a metallic clash. It came again and again, and the longer it continued, the lighter my surroundings became. The noise ceased and my pulse slowly returned to normal and the beat settled to a soft thrum. I heard a noise and turned around to stare at a deep and dark hole in the floor. The sound of another heartbeat rose from it, racing faster and faster. A red light slowly appeared in the hole. The heartbeat stuttered and struggled to maintain a steady beat. The sound of the heart grew weaker and the beats came less frequently. The heart stopped beating completely and the red light faded away, leaving me in darkness once more.

I awoke with a start, a scream rising in my throat only to die away. What was the secret of room 4293? Was there even a mystery at all? As I rose from my bed, I plucked my nightshirt from my skin. Sweat ran down my back, making me shiver in the cool night air. Winter was approaching at a fast pace, and it was getting a bit late in the year to be leaving the windows open at night. I got up to close them, searching the moonlit night for signs of evil. This was getting a bit ridiculous. Why should I be afraid of a dream? Even if there were such a thing as room 4293, why on earth would I be dreaming of it? I was much too old to be kept awake by imaginary things that went bump in the night, especially if they bumped several stories down. Besides, hadn't Erik once assured me that the only things on the other levels were furnaces and old rooms abandoned due to the heat? Erik. How long before I would be able to even think his name without getting a sour taste in my mouth? I had gotten over being fooled by him quickly enough. The only thing left that still irked me was that I couldn't figure out why he had done it. Hadn't he been the one to send me away? I would have come running if only he had given the word. Had it been a test of my loyalty, or did he just want to see how far he could push me before I pushed back? Well, now he knew. Why couldn't he have just let me apologize for the misunderstood scream and move on? He already knew about what had happened with Destry. If only I could just get him to listen…but no. It was too late for that.

'Great.' I thought to myself, 'I wake up at one-thirty in the morning because of a nightmare, and end up thinking about Erik.'

My feelings for him were severely mixed up. I had once loved him more than anything; there was no doubt about that. But what about the attitude that he had taken over the past year? Was I just supposed to ignore that? Although I had loved Erik, my new hatred for him knew no bounds. One might say that my hatred for him was fueled by my past love. Something had to be done. I couldn't just sit around weighing the love and hate to see which was more relevant. My feelings for what was pretty much two different people could not be put on one scale. To do so would be unfair to both Erik and myself. As to being unfair to the part of him that was Phantom, I couldn't have cared less. He could take all the credit for my misery that he wanted. Yes, the situation would have to be dealt with eventually. Technically I could have tried to fix it right then, but my mind was still messed up from the dream. Shivers went up and down my spine at the thought of the fading red light. Maybe if I looked in the room, the dreams would stop. Or was it a time issue? Would the rose be gone one day and there the next? Nonsense. All that would be in there would be some dusty old furniture and maybe a few rats. My mind refused to accept it. Those thoughts were easy enough to believe in daylight, but not now, when clouds covered the moon and dark shadows reached out to claw at me from every crevice.

I descended slowly, watching the light from my torch flicker against the stone walls. Soon the blazing light of the furnaces interrupted the blackness that surrounded me. Workers shoveled fuel into the fiery gaping mouths, paying no attention to anything else going on around them. The light that they cast on the wooden doors was identical to the light in my dream. When at last I came to door 4293, my hand hovered hesitantly over the handle. What if my dreams had been true? If I opened the door, would I set everything in motion? I pulled my hand back and took several deep breaths. Clearing my mind of all terrifying thoughts, I placed my hand on the door once more. It was locked. What did that mean? I jiggled the lock a few more times and nothing happened. Perhaps one of the workers lived here, keeping the door locked while he worked. There was, of course, still the possibility of a rusty mechanism. I decided to try the handle one more time. It clicked and the door opened noisily.

The room was dark, but the light from the furnaces cast a ray of light through the doorway. Looking around with my torch, I was startled to see a woman lying motionless on the floor. She was deathly pale and her hair was stained with blood. I moved closer and knelt beside her. The girl still had a pulse. It fluttered like the heartbeat of a small animal. She slowly opened her eyes and slowly sat upright. It was only then that I noticed the piece of cloth that gagged her. I reached up and gently removed it. She looked at me and I nearly screamed.

"Christine." I said softly.

She looked at me strangely for a moment, and then gasped. There was the sound of the door clicking shut, and the room darkened. I spun around to see Buquet standing across the room. I didn't have to ask what would happen next. He started toward me and I dove underneath the bed. Christine screamed as he shoved her violently out of the way. He grabbed my ankle and started to pull me out. I wrapped my arms around the leg of the bed and held on with all of my might. My grip loosened only for a second as he yanked on my hair. It had been enough. Buquet pulled me out by the hair and yanked me upwards, breathing beer-breath into my face and holding me in place. I screamed and he slapped me. He hadn't gotten what he wanted last time; Erik had been there to intervene. This time there would be no escape.

Christine watched in horror as he pinned me to the bed. Whatever he had done to her, it wasn't as bad as what he had planned for me. The door was locked and the workers were oblivious to everything. I could have been in the same room as them, screaming my head off, and still they wouldn't have moved. Sobs racked my body as I tried to fight the man's hands. They ripped away the fabric of my dress to make things easier for him. He tore my under things from my body, moving his hands over my exposed body. Christine attempted to help, but he knocked her back. Suddenly, the door burst open and Buquet was being pulled off of me. I crawled to the corner where Christine lay, hastily pulling my tattered clothing back into place. She held me close as I struggled to pull the top of my dress into position. From outside the door came the clanging that I had heard in my dream. I now recognized the noise as the clashing of swords. I wiped my tearstained face and timidly walked to the doorway.

The light from the fires added a dramatic touch to the duel. On one end was Buquet, his face pulled back in an ugly snarl. His opponents face twitched from concentration and effort. He moved gracefully and cleverly like an angel of righteousness. His emerald eyes shone with fury and disgust. Erik. I didn't know how he had found me and I didn't care. All I wanted was for the duel to end so that I could talk to him. He glanced at me momentarily and Buquet took the opportunity to pull his mask off. Erik backed away in shock, looking at me in horror. Buquet lashed out and Erik threw up his sword, blocking but not retaliating. Why was he backing down? He would be killed if he continued like this!

"What are you doing?" I cried, "Fight back!"

Erik began fighting again, glancing at me periodically in confusion. Soon he began looking at me expectantly. I fought between my desire for understanding between us and for Erik to concentrate on the fight. There was no way that I could explain now!

So there I was, explaining the misunderstood scream to him as he fought. Different emotions flashed across his face as I replayed the whole scene from my point of view. After I had finished, he concentrated on Buquet, watching for errors in his footing. Apparently he made a mistake, because with a simple side-step Erik was able to drive his sword clean through him. A look of surprise came over Buquet's face and he fell to the ground. Erik picked him up and threw his corpse into one of the furnaces. A worker had stopped what he was doing a while back and was watching the events lazily. Erik walked over to him and dropped a small bag into his hand. The worker smiled and turned back to the furnaces. With his small wages, the man was more than happy to stay silent for a few extra francs. Erik turned to look at me and I smiled. His gaze moved to Christine and she nodded solemnly. He turned and walked toward a hidden passage. I called his name, but he did not respond. Christine took hold of my arm as I tried to go after him and pulled me in the opposite direction. No matter how loudly I called his name, Erik refused to look in my direction. And so, I turned and walked back to the surface with Christine. All memory of how much I had loved him became a thing of the past, and hatred took over completely. He had saved me, yes. But the fact that he had left again, mixing up my feelings again for one terrible moment, counteracted it. What part of my heart had softened from the rescue hardened again, and I pushed all thoughts of Erik even further from my mind.

Erik's POV-

By the time that I had made the return journey to the cellars, my heart was pounding unevenly in my ears. Dark spots danced before my eyes and I collapsed onto the bed, gasping for breath. The memory of Selena's voice echoed in my mind. She hadn't been afraid. All this time I had thought she feared the sight of me, when in reality it had been my anger that had caused her to tremble. If only I had realized that sooner, before things had gotten out of hand? But now it was too late. Christine had done as I had asked in my letter to her. She was to keep Selena away from me, to prevent her from getting hurt. Never could I have imagined the things that I had done to her. How, even in my current state, could I possibly have brought myself to hurt my precious angel? I closed my eyes and saw her face. How often had this made-up scene played in my head? She smiled at me gently.

"I love you." she whispered.

I reached out for her with my mind, pressing past the mental barrier that had stood in my way for months. What would happen now that I had dared to pass through it? The smile on her face disappeared and was replaced with an expression of fear. She took a step backward. I turned to see what had frightened her, but saw nothing. Selena had stepped away from me. I reached out to her, and she screamed. I backpedaled and ran into something. Turning, I looked into a mirror. My mask was off. She was screaming because of my face.

I jerked upright in bed, drenched in sweat. My heart was going wild. I had to calm down. It had only been a dream. She had told me herself that my face had not been the problem. I could have easily calmed myself, if not for the voices. They came as they always did, bickering and pointing invisible fingers. Kevin came first, kind and reassuring, but firm.

"Why did you leave her? You love her! She even refused to marry me because she wouldn't hurt you. What does that say? She loves you!"

Then came the Phantom, the entity who I both hated and feared. I had given him control over my mind and body when he first asked for it, how could I not? He had promised to keep Selena from leaving. It had been he who had hurt Selena over and over, and now she hated and feared me…because she didn't know. Now the Phantom demanded control almost constantly, and I had become powerless to resist.

"Love? Do you truly think that anyone could love you? Did you hear the scream that she let out when she saw your face? I can't believe you fell for her excuse! Will you always give in to her because of her past? She's probably lying about that too!"

No. I wouldn't give in to either of them this time. They both would go to Selena as soon as they gained control, putting her in danger once more. Still they pressed against the walls of my mind, demanding entrance and control. I fought them both, but they were stronger than I was, especially in my weakened state. Getting up, I went to the edge of the lake and plunged my head underwater. Maybe that would bring my mind back to its senses? Not a chance. As soon as I pulled my head from the water, the voices drowned out everything around me. Why couldn't they just shut up?!? Their hatred for one another grew and they became determined to destroy one another. My hand flew unbidden to my waist, pulling out the concealed dagger. This was it; they were finally going to kill me. I closed my eyes as the tip of the dagger touched my chest. All it would take would be one firm upward thrust, and then there would be blessed silence at last.

Selena's POV-

I sat in front of the mirror, brushing my hair smooth. Something twitched in the back of my mind, but I refused to concentrate in it. Why should I let troubling thoughts ruin such a perfect night? A knock at the door caused me to jump slightly. Who would be calling at this late hour? Christine's head appeared in the doorway and I smiled. Tonight was to be our night on the town, and I was almost ready. She smiled hesitantly and walked over to me, her hands behind her back. Christine's eyes drifted to the top of my dress, searching for something that she would not find. Erik's pin was sitting abandoned on my dresser, its gems shining invitingly. I walked over and picked up my shawl, and the pin fell to the floor as I turned to leave. My foot froze in mid-step. Turning, my heart gave a slight tug as it sparkled pleadingly. No. I would not let my emotions play with me tonight. Christine grabbed me by the arm as I stepped toward the door. She looked at me worriedly, and I laughed. What did she think would happen? The world wouldn't come to an end just because I refused to wear a piece of jewelry!

I took her hand comfortingly.

"My dear cousin," I said playfully, "are you becoming superstitious? You look at me as though I've signed a death warrant!"

She pulled back and looked around nervously, clutching a piece of paper in her hands tightly.

"What if it's to late? Is this really the right thing?" she muttered to herself.

Christine bit her lip nervously and thrust the paper into my hands. I looked at her confusedly.

"He said not to tell you," she said quietly, "that you would be safer this way. I just can't help but wonder if it would change anything between you. I thought…maybe you'd want to know."

She looked at me as a child would his mother if he'd been caught with his hand in the cookie jar. I looked down at the letter in distaste. There went the perfect evening. What did Christine think was in the letter that I didn't already know? Sighing, I told her that I would read it later. She looked from me to the door and then left. So much for spending time with one another…

I changed into something comfortable and then stretched out on my bed. Stars winked at me through the window like diamonds on black velvet. I opened the glass to get a better view and returned to my previous position on the bed. The wind moved through the trees outside, singing me a soft lullaby. Sleepily I let my hand hang over the bed's edge. My fingertips brushed against something cold and metallic. Bringing it up to eye level, I saw that it was the pin. It was quite beautiful; maybe I could just forget whom it came from? I rolled my eyes. That would have been too simple. Instead I pulled out the letter that Christine had given me. For a moment, all I could see was the style of handwriting, my sleepy eyes blurring everything on the page. I blinked a few times and tried again to read it. The letter first addressed Christine, and then discussed the events of the past few years. Erik had not told her specific details, only gave a rough outline of our relationship. In fact, he had told her practically nothing. How was it that he was always able to be so vague, yet paint a clear picture of what he wanted to convey? He had certainly done so with our relationship. The passion was there, but not a single event was mentioned.

After he had finished explaining how he felt about me, Erik went on to describe his cruelty toward me. My eyes longed to simply skip over the words on the page. It was as if seeing them written in ink would have confirmed what my heart had been trying to deny. As I read, it was clear that he understood how he had made me feel. Anger rose up within me as he perfectly described what I had felt during that time, and what I felt now. Some part of me had still held hope that he truly didn't understand what he had been putting me through. That hope had just been crushed into oblivion. I stopped reading for a moment and put my arm over my eyes. The wind was playing its song again, and I nearly dozed off. My eyed drooped lower and lower as I read the letter. Just as it seemed as though he was finally getting to the end of his recap of things, Erik changed the subject. He went on to explain why he had done the things that he had, and how it was not completely his fault. The letter ended directly after that, with a request for Christine to keep the letter a secret. I let the paper drop to the floor and chuckled. If

Erik had thought that I would have believed his explanation, then he was mistaken. The whole concept was absurd. Or was it? He claimed insanity, and perhaps he was telling the truth. I remembered how different he seemed after I had removed his mask, after I screamed. Was it possible that my scream had caused something within him to snap? Had he not been acting like himself because he hadn't _been_ himself?

I sat up in bed, no longer sleepy. It would explain everything! He had certainly seemed confused enough when I discovered that he and Kevin were one person. Then there was the fact that I had never seen the two together. When 'Kevin' had been captured, there had been no trace of Erik. His talent in ventriloquism would have allowed him to speak in his own voice while playing the part of Kevin, who couldn't speak. It was either perfect deception or perfect madness. I looked down at the pin in my hand. Which would I believe? The wind continued its song and I slammed the window shut. If I cut myself off from him, I could either be saving myself or condemning him. Was I willing to take that chance? Staring down at the emerald stem of the rose, Erik's eyes ghosted before me, filled with love. I paced the room. What was I to do? I went over to the sink and pumped some water into a bowl. As I splashed my face, I heard a noise from the other side of the room. A mouse sat on my bed, the pin in its paws. I dove for it, but the rodent was faster, scurrying into a hole in the wall.

My body forgot my mind and I shoved my hand into the hole. I somehow grasped the mouse and pulled it wriggling from the hole. It refused to let go of the pin on its own and so I wrapped my hand around it and yanked the pin from its grip. The mouse dropped from my hand and ran back into its hole. I looked down and pulled the pin out of my palm, where it was lodged. Pulling the back off, I attached the pin to my dress proudly. Looking in the mirror, I was shocked to see the pin, my hand, and part of my dress blotted with blood. I cleaned myself up and wrapped my hand to prevent infection. I carefully reattached the cleaned pin to my dress and then turned toward the door. Yes, I decided, it was possible. Your mind could become highly irrelevant, if you were in danger of losing something you loved…or someone. I had caused Erik to think that he had lost me, and now he needed me more than ever before. I grabbed a bright torch from the hall and hurried down the stairway. This time, I would not be turned away.

Erik's POV-

My grip on the hilt of the blade tightened and I took a shaky breath. Just as I, or whomever, was about to drive the dagger in, I heard my name. Both voices stopped talking at once. Selena. Her voice was the only thing that seemed to calm them, even if it was temporary. The dagger was lifted from my hands and there was a splash as it landed in the deep end of the lake. She took my face in her hands and looked into my eyes. I raised a hand and gently stroked her cheek. Selena started to cry and I started to pull my hand back. She caught it and held it to her lips, apologizing over and over through her tears. I didn't understand. What was she apologizing for? Then it hit me. She had read the letter. I groaned and cursed the girl. Hadn't I told her to keep Selena away from me? I jerked my hand from her grasp and glared at her, hoping that she would run. I raised my voice and yelled accusations at her, but still she sat staring at me. Standing, I yanked her to her feet and shoved her toward the door. She turned and looked at me pityingly. I silently prayed for forgiveness and hit her with the back of my hand. Her skin turned bright red where I had touched her and she stumbled into the wall, where she stood staring at me. I fell to my knees, tears in my eyes.

"Why won't you leave?" I whispered.

She came to my side and put her arms around me.

"Because I love you." she replied.

I looked up at her in horror. She merely smiled and wiped the tears from my eyes. How beautiful she looked, her eyes sparkling with love and tears of sorrow. I couldn't send her away looking like that, I was much too selfish. Selena kissed me lightly upon the lips and held me close. I wrapped my arms around her and drew her closer to me, as if she would slip through my embrace and disappear. Her hair was soft and clean, the sent of it calming my nerves. How I wished that I didn't love her. I wished that I could send her away, heartbroken but otherwise unscathed. But I did love her. I had loved her from the moment I saw her, running from danger and into my arms. Little had she known exactly how much more dangerous that one action was, and what it would cost her. My promises to myself to stay clear of her had been in vain. I wanted her beside me, and she wanted that too. It was easy to see that nothing had changed in that respect. Though the Phantom's words had obviously been false, I doubted that he would be satisfied with losing. The words formed in my mind, the words that would send her running from me forever. I pulled back and looked into her eyes, and the words died before they even reached my lips. At that moment, I knew that we were both doomed. I could never say the words that would save her, never convince her that they were true, because they weren't. Never could I say to the angel, 'I don't love you'.

* If you wanna reach me, my email is . Please, don't ask guys. And no, that's not the freaking end!!!!! To Karina: I would love to message you, but I can't b/c the ignoramic website won't let me!!! I can't even reply to your reviews! Somethin' to do w/ 'anonymous reviews' or something. Use the e-mail! :D*


	14. True is False

The next few months would prove to be a true test of the love I had for Erik. If I had not seen him sane that one day, I might have given up all hope of saving him. I stayed with him through the night, and awoke the next morning to what would be the beginning of a long nightmare. Erik had given way to the Phantom, who stood glaring at me as I rubbed the sleep from my eyes.

"What do you want?" he spat, "What are you doing here?"

I knew that I had to be cautious, telling as much of the truth as possible yet not telling the whole story. It wouldn't do to have him angry with me for what he would take as a lie.

"I just came to apologize." I said quietly, "I don't know what I was thinking. Kevin is far from being a good companion. He can't even talk, what's the sense in me spending time with him? To do so would only further destroy all of the hard work you and I have put into my voice."

He looked at me suspiciously. He suspected the lie, and for a moment I thought that he wasn't going to go for it.

"Very wise of you. Although it would have been much more preferable had you come to this realization earlier. Much time has been wasted thanks to your frivolity."

I hung my head. That was one point that I would not argue against. If I had been true to Erik, perhaps I would have sooner realized that something was amiss.

The first few days were the easiest. Erik was not sure whether or not I would stay, and it showed in the Phantom's twisted personality. He was not exactly kind, but he was tolerable. I could put up with the small jabs he issued toward the relationship Kevin and I had shared. They didn't come very often, and when they did, the Phantom always peered over at me a few minutes later to see if I was still there. After he was sure that I was staying for good and our lessons had once again gotten underway, he became more violent. He raised his voice frequently in frustration and progressed to physical abuse within a few days. Standing my ground would be even harder than I thought. It was hard to convince myself that he needed me, because you couldn't tell by looking at him. The only evidence of his ailment came when he slept, when I could get close enough to feel the erratic beating of his heart. His condition seemed to have improved when he let the Phantom have control, which was a blessing. The only sense I could find in it was that he didn't worry about hurting me anymore and was no longer hearing voices. That and the fact that I didn't want to give the Phantom any satisfaction were the only things that kept the tears at bay. For when the Phantom struck, he pulled no punches.

Bruises soon covered my entire body, but still I kept silent. Well, relatively silent. After a few weeks I grew tired of being treated like a criminal, and engaged in the fight. In that respect, he had won. I said nothing of the pain, covering the visible bruises with makeup, but I questioned his crooked reasoning. A few times he would wake up as Kevin, and I would have a reprieve. Then the violence came with shouted accusations. He claimed I was sneaking out to see Kevin in secret, adding new bruises with each occurrence. The only thing that saved me was his lack of proof. The Phantom's mind would fill the time he spent as Kevin with false memories of searching for me. Erik's mental oddity left no detail untouched. One might say that it was the perfect illness, but I was loath to call it perfect. Then came the time that I was forced to not only accept, but to aid him in his lunacy.

Erik had spent yet another day as Kevin, and the Phantom was furious. The blows came without stop, and my body cried out for me to surrender. I rolled to the side to dodge a kick and he hauled me to my feet. He stood glaring down at me and I glared back.

"If you want to make sure that I don't leave," I said challengingly, "why don't you just trap me here?"

"Perhaps I shall!"

It was a threat. When I didn't fall to my knees begging him to allow me my freedom, he released me and stormed off. After a few moments I heard the clanging of tools. That night, he grabbed me roughly by the arm and dragged me over to the edge of the lake. The Phantom had indeed been busy. A mechanism was on the grate to keep it from rising and a different was on the door.

"Only I know how to work this lock." he said confidently, "and it only works from this side. Let's see your lover get past THAT!"

Before I could ask how he would keep me from figuring the lock out myself, the Phantom started walking toward the organ. It was there that I saw the answer. Attached to it were chains, which were soon locked around my hands and feet. So it had come to this. Now I truly was a prisoner, chained to the symbol of my instrument of torture, music.

I spent the night curled up in a ball, noises in the dark keeping me awake. It was not the noises that I feared most, but the cold darkness itself. Any other night I would be curled upon a mat beside Erik's bed, listening to his quiet breathing as I gently drifted off to sleep. I had always known that he would protect me, Phantom or not. Now I felt vulnerable, exposed to raw darkness. Groups of invisible beings crawled forth from the lake, the souls of the drowned. The stench of their swollen waterlogged corpses made my stomach lurch as they moved closer. Pale puffy digits groped for me in the dark, the forces combining to act as a search party. Their faces ghosted before me, their eyes nothing but black sockets of death. Cold sweat formed on my brow, the salt stinging my eyes. I could not blink, or they would sneak up upon me. It was foolish to hope that I would see them in time. The darkness was too thick for my light-spoiled eyes. Then I heard the sniffing. It was at that moment that I knew I would die. Through the holes that used to serve the beings as noses, they would smell my fear. The sound came close and cold hands grabbed my arms and legs, dragging me toward the lake. I was pushed under the water and from the depths came more hands, reaching up to take me. All I could wonder as water filled my lungs was what had happened to the chains. I opened my eyes and a figure appeared at the surface, bathed in light. The last thing I saw was the Phantom standing over me and laughing…and holding the key.

Phantom's POV-

I woke up annoyed. Sleep had not come as peacefully as I had expected, a faceless being haunting my dreams. What did I have to be concerned about? The boy could not come here as he had been the past few days, and Selena was safely secured in place. Still something nudged the corners of my mind, demanding entrance. I walked out into the open, lighting candles as I went. Selena sat with her knees to her chest, her eyes wide and sleepless. Her appearance made me uncomfortable. I knew that I was responsible for her apparent misery and for some reason this did not make me happy as it did with others. My conscience (when in the name of peace did I get one of those?!?) scolded me as I took note of how very fragile and worn Selena looked. I suddenly felt slightly embarrassed and even almost….guilty. Perhaps my conscience would stop its confounded nagging if I showed some form of humanity toward her? But what? Her gaze was concentrated on the lake, as if mesmerized.

"Would you like to bathe?" I asked her gently.

She looked at me as if her mind could not process the words.

"I could unchain you so that you could reach the lake," I continued, "and then I would leave the room."

Selena shook her head rapidly and crawled as far from the lake as the chains would allow. It appeared as though she would not be appeased.

"Women…" I muttered, and walked away.

Sitting down in an enclosed room to eat, I pushed my frustration away. My indifference wasn't long lasting. A quiet sound drifted from the other room, and I paused to listen. She was crying. I attempted to block out the sound and turned back to my meal, only to find that I was no longer hungry. Pushing my plate away, I rubbed my temples slowly with the tips of my fingers. Would I ever be able to let go of my past feelings for her? Probably not. Selena was so easy to love, though I always tried to convince both her and myself that I had shut her out completely. I had gone a bit overboard in trying to prove that point, taking the anger I had for the boy out on Selena. Of course, the blasted headache that I had been fighting for so long didn't help matters much either. It was like my brain was a door someone was constantly knocking on. When Selena slipped from my grasp to go see her ex-fiancé, or when I was perhaps a bit hard on her, it felt like someone was taking a ramming log to my brain. This was one of those times. The ring that had been on Selena's hand was now hidden underneath my shirt, and I pulled it out to look at it. It was just as well that Selena was not marrying that boy, because the quality of the ring was very fine. Not that I would begrudge her a costly ring, mind you, but how did the whelp come by the money to pay for it? Not by means that would have pleased Selena, that was definite.

That evening, I let Selena visit with Christine for a while. After I had done what I needed to do, I went to fetch her back. I paused at the door, listening to her laughter and peering in to see the smile that lit up her face. How I missed that smile…No! I would not soften that much! As soon as I entered the room, Selena's smile faded and all traces of her happiness vanished. On the journey back she remained completely silent, and I watched as the youth drained from her face with every step. Was I truly completely to blame for such a tragedy? Surely not. I convinced myself that there were other factors involved, that I was only partially to blame. The banging thing in my head was not impressed. It was going to be a long night. I led Selena over to the organ and chained her to it, clamping only her ankle and not fastening the clamp quite as tightly as before. Her eyes wandered over the improved accommodations, and I walked away satisfied. She now had her mat to lie on, water to drink, and several candles with matches. It was the best that I could do without unchaining her, but I wasn't about to tell her that. Let her think that I offer only slightly more comfort due to cruelty. The thing in my head banged harder in protest, but I wouldn't let it break me. I turned to go to my own chambers, blowing out the candles on my way by, determined to wait the thing out. She wasn't worth what defeat might bring.

"Thank you."

I froze and the banging stopped. Turning around, I stared at her for a moment. The candle that she had lit cast a gentle glow on her face. A faint smile appeared as her body relaxed and prepared to go to sleep. Slowly my eyes acknowledged what they had been overlooking for so long. Bruises began appearing all over her exposed skin, black and blue spots covering her pale skin like a disease. I turned and fled to my room, throwing myself upon the bed in anguish. The banging resumed and grew to full force, and I bit my tongue to keep from crying out in pain. It had done this a few times before, bodiless voices drifting in and out of my head. Now the pain expanded to my entire body, making me feel as if I were on fire. But even that is not what caused tears to slide silently from my eyes. What brought utmost agony was that Selena _was _worth it…whatever the consequence might be. An unknown fear arose within me at the thought of giving in to the pounding, but I could handle fear, I had many times before. Yes, Selena was worth it, but still that was not truly the reason for my tears. I cried because I did not know how to give in at all. I cried because I wanted to go to her, to ask what was happening to me, what the voices were saying. I cried in frustration…because I was too afraid of the answer.

Selena's POV-

I dreamt of him again, as he once was. Suddenly my dreams were cast into darkness, and I woke. I had tried to help him regain his sanity, and my efforts had failed. What was I to do? A noise thumped in a far corner, and I quickly lit my candle. Kevin was back again. I let out a sigh of relief and opened my arms to him. He came to my side and held up an object. It was the key, and Kevin bent to use it to release me. I put my hands over the keyhole and he looked at me questioningly. Using his pad and pencil, he urged me to make as little noise as possible, saying that he was going to take me away from here. I stood to my feet and put my arms around him. Kevin held so much of Erik that it hurt, and tears slid down my face in longing. How I wished that I could go with him, but what would happen if I did? What if he stayed frozen as Kevin forever? I couldn't take that chance. Backing away from him, I shooed him away. His eyes filled with hurt and he backed up until he reached the door. He leaned on it slightly and the door opened.

I watched as his expression went from shock to fury. This was going to get interesting. And so it did. He turned to face me and started the accusations, ignoring the fact that I was still chained to the organ and couldn't possibly have gotten to the door.

"So, you decided to let your lover in, did you? We'll see about that."

Several pieces of furniture got dramatically flipped over before I spoke.

"He's not here anymore. You're wasting your time."

No dice.

"Not here is he? Well then maybe I should just go find him. Yes, I'll just go see what he's up to. You can never be too careful when it comes to mutes. So many women find them absolutely irresistible."

Then an idea came into my head. What if he DID find Kevin?

"Alright, fine." I said in fake exasperation, "I'll just tell you where he is, shall I?"

He turned and looked at me expectantly.

"He's behind that curtain."

The Phantom stormed over and I held my breath as he drew back the curtain. He stared blankly for a moment, reached out a hand and touched the glass. His face paled as he realized that he was staring at his own reflection. With the makeup for Kevin's character still on, he was forced to see the truth.

"The only place Kevin exists is in your mind. There was never anyone else, just you."

He was in front of me faster than I would have thought possible.

"YOU LIE!" he shouted, and attempted to knock me to the floor.

I caught his arm and twisted it into a painful position, making him wince. He used his leg to knock my feet out from underneath me. I looked up at him in immense hatred.

"Maybe I love the person called Kevin, but there is no doubt in my mind about my hatred for you."

That did it. Something behind his eyes snapped, and suddenly I was afraid for him. Had I pushed him to the point that his health would begin to fail more rapidly?

"I will find the boy." he said quietly, "And when I do, he will pay."

With that statement, he turned toward the door.

"No!" I cried out, "Erik, don't! Imprison me as you like, but don't do this!"

I was on my knees begging. He would kill himself if he went out there.

"Yes. There is nothing you can say or do that will save the man you love. This I swear to you."

Erik left through the door and I cried out in horror. His words echoed in my head. No matter how hard I pulled against the chains, I couldn't free myself to go after him. At this time of year, with cold rainy days and nights, and in Erik's condition, he was as good as dead. I had as much as killed the man I loved, and desperation came over me like a flood. I began pulling at the chain harder and harder, digging at my ankle with my nails. That was it! I would break my anklebone in order to slip it through the shackles! But how would I get up the stairs? I cursed my feeble mind. Why couldn't I think? There had to be a way out! I began twisting frantically in every direction, searching for an answer. In my haste, I knocked over the candle and the fabric of my dress caught fire. I quickly smothered the flames and stretched my hand out to retrieve the rolling candle. The flame reflected off of something shiny on the ground, and I was momentarily distracted. My hope was restored as I realized that the shining object was the key, dropped by Erik/Kevin in the confusion. Could I reach it? Yes. I went out as far as the chain would let me and reached for it until my fingers started to cramp, and then pulled it toward me with a fingernail. I pushed the key into the hole, turned it, and…

there was a metallic click…

as the key…

broke.


	15. Twisted Every Way

I stared at the broken piece of metal in my hand for what seemed like an eternity, not saying a word. Was this truly to be our end? Erik would die alone in some dark corner of the Parisian streets, searching for a man who did not exist. I would die alone in the cellars because nobody would think to come looking for me. If I went missing, it would be assumed that I was where I should be, with Erik. Tears appeared in my eyes and I blinked them back, swallowing my self-pity. It was no use to lose Erik after everything we had been through…it was too much. A yell of absolute despair and fury burst from my mouth like a curse upon the world, echoing loudly through the darkness.

"Am I interrupting something?"

Christine! There was hope for a happy ending yet! She came over to me and stared at the chain holding me in place. With a little bit of wiggling and after a few broken fingernails, the key worked properly and I was free. Christine's eyes took in the dark spots on my body, worry and disapproval showing in every feature of her face. Hurriedly, I explained the situation to her in as few words as possible.

"And you're going after him?" she said quietly.

It wasn't really a question, more like an expression of concern and helplessness. She didn't want me to go, but she didn't exactly want Erik to get hurt either.

"I'm coming with you."

Her statement caught me off guard, and I stared at her for a few moments before my brain started working again.

"Nonsense." I said firmly, "There would be nothing to gain from you tagging along. This is between Erik and myself. I appreciate the offer, but I think it would be easier to get him to listen to me if I was the only one there. If you found him and he didn't want to listen to you, what do you think would happen? He would try to walk away, you would try to stop him, and he would hurt you. No. If Erik and I are going to get anywhere, I've got to be the one to take the blows. Don't ask me why, I just do. It's the only thing I can do to try and reach him. Something flickers in his eyes each time he hurts me…I think his mind is trying to get his attention. If I can just get it to shout loud enough…if something would happen that his old self would have been furious at, then I think I might be able to get him back. I have this feeling that if I just set things straight when he was in his right mind, then he would be alright. Maybe it's just the foolish hopes of a girl in love, but it's all the hope I have left for anything."

There came those stupid tears again. Christine was tearful as well, and we embraced. Upward we went, as if we had wings on our heels. At the entrance to the opera we embraced once more. I didn't carry a heaping load, wishing to be light on my feet. All I carried was the shawl I had around my shoulders and a small amount of food and spare change in a bag slung onto my back.

"If you won't let me come with you," she whispered, "then at least take this."

She handed me a pouch full of money. I opened my mouth to protest, but her eyes stopped me. This was a sort of penance for her. Christine knew that she had hurt Erik, and was trying to help him now to begin making amends. I suddenly saw that she did indeed hold feelings for Erik, loving him like a sister would her brother.

"I'll bring him back…or die trying." I promised her, and silently vanished into the darkness.

After several months of searching, my mind told me to give up. It told me I was stupid for thinking that I would be able to find Erik in the endless pathways of Paris. My stomach agreed, rumbling hungrily. I still had most of the money Christine gave me, not wanting to stop for food nor rest. My feet stayed firmly on main paths, away from the dark alleys and the people who dwelled in them. Doing this was useless, as Erik would obviously keep out of sight. I finally admitted this to myself and journeyed into unknown territory. Before I set off, however, I took several measures to disguise myself. A woman would not be safely welcomed in the places that I was headed. I walked into the room that I had rented and sat on the bed. My long hair fell to the ground as I cut it short. What remained of my shining tresses was quickly hidden beneath a cap. Reaching into my bag, I pulled out a pair of pants and a loose shirt. These I had taken from Erik's drawers, suspecting that I would eventually need them. My feminine features were well hidden beneath the loose material.

The darkness of night fell over Paris with a hushed whisper, sending her inhabitants to the land of slumber. The moon and stars refused to shine through the clouds and I felt my body begin to shiver. Eyes followed my every step, claws reached out to grab at me from every angle. I did not let my fear show in my face, but quickened my steps all the same. It had been so long since I had changed my appearance…my hair had started to grow back, and it became harder to hide. I was cold, hungry, and absolutely exhausted. Only one thing would have made the surroundings less desirable, and that was…

'No,' I told myself, 'don't even think that word. If you do, then sure enough…'

Too late! Water began sprinkling down from the sky, and I turned up my face to stare at it.

"You CAN'T be serious." I said to it.

The skies answered back with a long roll of thunder and yet more rain. I stood there laughing, and began to twirl around and dance. Yes. I danced. So what if I looked like an idiot? After all that I'd been through, that was the last thing on my mind. The raindrops caressed my pale skin, and I felt him there in the rain. In my heart, Erik was beside me, dancing and holding my hand. All the worry washed from his face, and he was happy. The rain had soaked through my shoes and my clothes, but I paid no attention to it. Erik was beside me, and all was well. He didn't care that I couldn't dance with even the grace of a dying goose; all that mattered was that we kept dancing. I knew that when the dance ended, he would go away again.

Suddenly I stopped and opened my eyes. Someone was watching me, though I saw no one. The imaginary Erik had disappeared when I had opened my eyes, but now I felt him urging me to do something. My legs were frozen in sudden fear, and I squinted my eyes in vain to see who was moving in upon me. Maybe if I just stood here, whoever it was would just go away. Stupid.

"Run." Erik whispered.

I fled quickly deeper and deeper into the winding paths, panic clouding my judgment. Rounding a corner, I stopped to catch my breath. Where was I? Lost. That's where I was, the realm of the lost. Footsteps clicked softly and slowly. I pulled a knife from the sack on my arm, and held it in front of me. From the corner of my eye, I saw a faint glimmer of light. The rain had slowed, and through the slight drizzle I saw a flame. The light it cast outlined a figure clothed completely in black, walking around a corner with steady determination. The person seemed to know where they were going.

'Come,' it seemed to say, follow me to shelter. My past experience with strangers told me to be cautious. What sort of guarantee did I have that this figure was not as dangerous as the being whose footsteps came nearer with my every breath? None. My trust in human beings was at an all time low. I couldn't even trust Erik anymore! The figure's outline slowly completed its turn around the bend, and he/she/it left me alone once more, appearing not even to have seen me standing there. At that exact moment, there was a deafening crash of thunder and the rain started to pour from the skies again. I ran after the figure, preferring to take my chances.

I rounded a corner and saw a group of men standing around a metal bin. They all turned to look at me and I hesitantly stepped backward. The figure I had seen moments ago was leaning against the stone wall that made the narrow alley a dead end. Words rose in my throat and died before reaching my lips. What was I to say? The rain stopped and one of the men quickly used a flint to light a fire in the bin. Warmth! Would they allow me to get closer to the growing flames? I stepped closer and the small group made a space for me. As I went forward to fill the spot, their eyes went to my hat. No doubt it would feed the fire nicely. One of them reached for it and I pulled back. If they found out I was a woman, what then? A fire was nothing compared to the warmth of another body. I put up as much of a struggle as I could before they finally wrestled it off of me. Their eyebrows rose in shock as they saw my hair fall quietly into place, coming to rest an inch or so below my shoulders.

"Why, it's a lady!" one of them said quietly.

What did that mean to them? Was I prey? No! Not again! The thought of their hands roaming my body brought tears to my eyes. I shook from fear and from trying to hold back my forthcoming sobs.

Hands slowly reached out to me and I felt my mind snap. I crawled away from them and curled up in a ball, my back protected by the wall I leaned against. The man in black slowly walked toward me, and I hid my face in my arms. My mind slipped out of itself, and I went into a dreamlike state, vaguely registering what was going on. The figure was standing above me now. Bending down to kneel upon one knee, he gently lifted my face. He took his cloak off and wrapped it around me, taking me into his arms and holding me close. What was going on??? His voice wrapped a blanket of security around me, and my mind briefly dared to listen.

"Oh Selena…" he whispered, "why did you follow me here? Could you truly not have let me find the boy? I suppose it was foolish of me to think you would let me kill him. You care for him a great deal, don't you?"

"Idiot." I breathed, and flung my arms around him. "You truly don't see it, do you?"

Erik was silent, running a bare hand gently over my hair and stroking my cheek.

"I want to believe you," he said brokenly, "but I can't. I-I just can't."

I looked up at him, taking in every feature of his tired face. The past few months of searching had worn upon him, that much was plain. If I couldn't somehow convince him to come home soon, he would have another spell. He hadn't had one in this form as of yet, but that only caused me to worry more. If his symptoms were not gone in this form, as I had originally thought, then they could very well be getting worse. The next actual attack he had would probably be his last. As if in agreement, I felt his heart give a hard thump beneath my hand. I had to do something, and it had to work this time. Erik's life might depend upon it.

The next morning, the kindness in his eyes had vanished. I followed him as he moved from shadow to shadow, not leaving his side for even a moment. His aggravation grew to its boiling point as his mind began to convince him that the search was useless. Struggling to keep up with his frantic pace, I also became irritated. How long would I have to put up with this nonsense? Any other reasonable human being would have given in to the truth by now, but not Erik. Oh no. He knew everything, and would not be fooled into letting his prey escape. It was no use. Erik would search for Kevin for the rest of his life, however long that might be. I had half a mind to try and drag him back home and chain **him** to the organ! Unfortunately, I knew Erik was too physically strong for that to work. The only was that he would be weak enough that I could overpower him would be if he had another spell. Even then, I wouldn't be able to literally drag him, which is what I would have to do. My mood declined rapidly as the sunlight began to flee from the sky. Erik slipped into an alleyway and I followed him. He motioned for me to sit, and I slid to the ground. At last! We had been going at a fast pace all day, and I wondered how on earth Erik could manage to do it every day. The answer was simple. He was too stubborn to quit.

I closed my eyes and breathed deeply. Children laughed as their mothers rounded them up. What would my little one have looked like, had it but lived to take a single breath? I didn't even know whether it had been a girl or a boy, only that it died. How wretched it was to be able to remember everything in such detail. I placed a hand on my empty womb as I remembered the feeling of life stirring within. What was it like to live a normal life? Surely I had experienced normalcy once in my life? If I had, then the memory had been erased by tragedy. A sound drew my attention to the main street. I opened my eyes and watched as a figure walked toward me. The man smiled at me and I pinched my skin, looking from him to Erik's sleeping form. He took my hands in his and drew me close. I pulled my hands away and stepped back in fear. What did this mean? Erik's eyes opened and he was on the man in a minute. For the first time, I saw them both standing side by side. For there was no doubt that the man who Erik had by the throat, was Kevin. But how? Kevin and Erik were one, weren't they?!? My brain throbbed. Kevin struggled to free himself from Erik's grasp, his eyes wide with shock. After another moment, Erik released him and Kevin's lifeless body slid to the floor.

I don't clearly remember the next morning. Erik took me home and tied my hands and together, having brought them behind me and around the bedpost to keep me secured in place. He explained that he had to keep me there for my own safety, to keep me from hurting myself in my insanity. I didn't argue. He produced a bottle of liquid, which he poured down my throat. The forced silence that the concoction induced upon me was uncomfortable. I didn't ask why Erik was making me mute because I didn't have to. This was punishment for my betrayal. Although my insanity helped my case, my love affair with Kevin could not just be looked over. I understood this and did not resist. Then Erik explained everything. He said that the forced silence was truly so that he could talk to me without my sick mind interrupting him. I had paid the man that Erik had killed to play the part of Kevin, at first simply wanting to make Erik jealous. I had then slipped into my current state of mind, forgetting everything. The claim I had made about Erik's insanity had been to ease my own mind, to make things easier for me. Many of my memories were false, such as Erik's physical harm toward me. The bruises on my body had been real, but self-inflicted. Tears filled Erik's eyes as he explained how hard he had tried to help me. I, of course, admitted that I remembered nothing. Each time that Erik had tried to help me, I had run to the man I called Kevin, erasing all his progress. Christine and Raoul had never been there, and so they could not testify for or against Erik's story. He said that my insanity had begun when I had had the flashback of Destry. The injury I had acquired from that instance was also self-inflicted, as I had been banging my head against the wall.

Erik tried to cheer me up with music, but nothing could remove the blanket of despair that had settled upon me. How long had I truly been imagining things? Was I imagining my life even now? What if there was no Erik either? What if our whole relationship had been constructed inside my mind, our only true meeting having been our first? I sobbed loudly, and Erik turned, his eyes full of fire. For the first time, I was truly afraid of him. I was afraid because his slipping into this personality meant that I was insane again. He yelled at me to be quiet, that he 'couldn't think with all of this racket'. I obeyed. The music started again and I let it wash over me. Imaginary or not, the music was still lovely. The first time that Erik had played that song for me, he said that he had written it only for my ears because he had been thinking of me whilst writing it. It was a nice thought. Right before the song came to a dramatic crescendo, I heard the squeaking of hinges. Although I had never seen him before, I immediately recognized Philippe Buquet. I whipped my head back around to look at Erik. He was oblivious to the intruder, completely taken up in his music. I opened my mouth to scream, but nothing came out. Of course, the liquid was still in effect! Buquet moved closer to Erik, his sword at the ready. Was this another trick of my mind? What if Erik was truly in danger? I struggled, but the rope held me fast. Buquet was almost upon him! I lifted my legs and kicked out, knocking a candelabrum over with a crash.

Erik turned to unleash his fury upon me, saw Buquet, and barely missed the swipe of his blade. They fought and I banged my head against the bedpost, willing the spell to cease. Spots began to dance before my eyes, and I groaned. What would I have to do to wake up?

"Stop!" Erik cried.

I looked at him in shock. His voice was still that of the Phantom's, the other personality that I had created.

"Stop hurting yourself," he shouted over the clashing of steel, "you're not insane!"

Whaaaaat????

"I lied! Haven't you learned by now that I'm a liar? I don't know what in the blazes is going on inside my own mind, but I can assure you that you're perfectly sane!"

He said the last sentence despairingly, as if he had just given up all hope of maintaining any ounce of his own sanity. I watched as bitter tears rose into his eyes and his footing became less sure. So I was sane…how lovely for me. The Phantom's admittance of his mental struggle drained him of his confidence, and what I saw frightened me. Panic caused him to become sloppy in his retaliations, and he quickly began to thrust his sword in desperation. Every movement became a struggle to hold on to what he thought he knew, a struggle that he was losing. The Phantom looked at me for some sort of reassurance, and I saw his shock at the composure and confidence in my eyes. He had expected…had _needed_ to see uncertainty in my thoughts…he had needed to see the dependency that had been there when I was unsure of my own sanity, and instead he saw pity. My fingers had been working frantically at the ropes that bound my hands since the appearance of Buquet, and I had almost freed them. If he hadn't looked at me, then perhaps I might have been free to help him, but he had. I watched as the last threads of his sanity broke and fear flooded his eyes.

Several things happened at once. Erik's sword dropped from his hand and clattered to the floor. The ropes had dropped from my hands seconds before, and I stood up. Seeing that I was free, Buquet thumped Erik on the head with the handle of his sword and ran toward the door. Erik's body went limp and he fell to the floor, unconscious. I rushed toward Buquet, but he slammed the door behind him and sprinted up the stairs. If I went after him with no weapon, I would only be putting myself in danger. Erik groaned and tried to sit up, only to fall on his face again. I helped him sit against the wall, though he was still only half-conscious. Taking his hand, I could only sit there and look worried. What should I do? What did he need for me to do? What could I do? That was the biggest question. What could you do for someone who was absolutely out of his or her mind? His eyes fluttered open and he started to move once more. I tried to keep him still, but he pushed me away violently, jumping to his feet and away.

"Stay away from me." he said with a shaky voice.

I reached out to him, but he backed away, disappearing behind the curtain to his room. This time, I feared that I had lost him forever. After a time, I slipped into his room and curled up beside him on his bed. Maybe things would look better in the morning.

Erik's POV-

What did it all mean? I had to figure it out. Was Selena lying or— what a beautiful color of red! —NO! I struggled to control my thoughts. Either Selena was lying, or I truly was insane. How ridiculous! I was no more insane than any other great artist or—ooh, shiny ring! Baaad Phantom, give Selena back her shiny!— AAAAAGGH!!! That did it. I got up, took Selena in my arms and carried her back up to Christine's room—which really did need a different theme color than pink, perhaps a nice midnight blue or…—I groaned. This was going to be rather difficult to override. I loved Selena, there was no doubt about that now—oodles and boodles of love!—Really? I understood insane, but my mind was getting downright childish.—Selena likes children! Yaaaay!—

"I don't." I muttered grumpily

—we like Kevin better, he wasn't grumpy—you too???—

I collapsed onto the bed in exhaustion. For the first time, I wished that there truly were a Kevin, at least then Selena would have someone to protect her. Yes, I accepted everything that Selena had once told me. Why? Because I knew she was right. There was no other explanation for the way my brain had been acting. The only thought of my own that I had accepted was that Selena would be better off under the care of her family. She was all that I cared about now. I could, and probably would, die for all I cared. I then wondered if I truly remembered what death meant.—death, noun. That state of a being, animal or vegetable, in which there is a total and permanent cessation of all the vital functions; the state of being dead; the state that, if pertaining to you, would best benefit Selena.—

I laughed until the sound of my insanity clearly rang through the darkness. At last, my mind and I agreed on something.

What would you expect to happen if you fell asleep in the manner that I did? (That manner being thinking of death and hearing your own insane laughter echoing) Would you think that your dreams would be of flowers and rainbows? Of course not! If I had been at all sane, I would have known what to expect. Since I was not, it came as quite a shock when I dreamt of death. The experience was quite extraordinary, as I revisited my past death in vast detail. I had almost forgotten the fear and the pain, as some time had passed since the actual occurrence. Never again would I forget. Every pain, every torture, every despairing thought was repeated. This time, however, there was no Selena to bring me to my senses. One might even say that it was worse, hanging in limbo. I wasn't truly dead this time, but neither could I wake myself up. Then came the worst, when I began to question why I wanted so badly to wake up. The very moment that I realized, to my horror, that I would only be waking up once again to my personalized prison, I opened my eyes. My eyes did not snap open, as one's usually do after a nightmare, but slowly pried themselves open with great effort. My chest felt heavy and tight and I got up, attempting to relieve the pressure. My legs buckled out from underneath me in mid-step. The floor was hard, and it hurt when I landed on my back, hitting my head in the exact place that Buquet had hit it earlier. Breathing suddenly became hard, and I had to focus event to fill my lungs with meager amounts of air. I never would have thought that darkness could spin, but it was. When I tried to get up, my head turned everything upside down. I crawled on my hands and knees to the edge of the lake and retched. Rolling back over onto my side, I rested my head against the cold floor and waited for the spell to pass as it always did. The pain and pressure grew, and my mind started to panic. This was about to get very bad.

Selena's POV-

I hurried down the pathways of the cellar, fury driving my speed. He had done it again! Did I have to spend every night sleepless in order to prevent this? It was embarrassing how easily he had disposed of me. What did he expect me to do, give up and stay where he put me? Never! I wasn't about to be pushed aside. He knew that he needed me, and nothing he said could convince me that he didn't. I only hoped that he hadn't gotten himself into any trouble during my absence. Fury turned to concern as I urged my legs to go faster. I turned a corner and saw Erik leaning over the lake, retching. He collapsed onto the stone floor and I rushed to him. His face was almost as white as his shirt, and his hand clutched at his chest. This was the moment that I had been dreading. There was no comfort in knowing that I had been right, only horror. Panic filled Erik's clouded eyes, and he struggled to take another breath. I positioned his head comfortably in my lap and gently stroked his face. This reminded me all too much of the other time…the time that he had died. I took one of his cold hands in my warm ones and squeezed it tightly.

"Relax, my darling." I said softly, "Everything's going to be alright."

He looked up at me with fear in his eyes. I wasn't the only one being reminded of last time. His breathing became slow and deep, and I placed a hand on his chest to check his heart rate. It was still erratic, but didn't seem to be working quite as hard.

Erik sat up slowly, testing his strength. He remained upright, and I smiled at him gently. Seeing that he had succeeded in that, he stood to his feet. I followed his movements, staying close to him.

"I'm fine." he said, "You may go now."

I glared at him. The nerve! I tried to calm myself.

"I'm not going to leave, Erik." I said gently, "I love you."

He didn't even think before he responded.

"No." he said, "You love Kevin, or perhaps you tell the truth and love Erik, but you do not love me. No one loves the Phantom, no one can. I was not made for love, but for hate. Even my other halves loathe me. And yes, I have seen hate in your eyes as well. Do not deny it."

Though his tone of voice spoke boastfully, his eyes were filled with disgust for himself.

"No." I said confidently, "You are wrong. The hate you have seen in my eyes, and that which I have spoken of before, is for your actions."

"No matter what I say or do, you will not leave?" he asked.

"Correct."

"Then hear this, and believe it with all of your soul, because it is the only truth I will ever tell."

"I. Do. Not. Want. You."

I blinked. My mind could not process what he was saying. He said it again, and a third time. There was no doubt in my mind by that time that he meant it. His eyes stared at me without mercy or relent. Tears came to my eyes as my heart cried out in pain. Suddenly Erik turned pale, and his legs gave out. His hand brushed my shoulder in a failed attempt to steady himself, and I caught him just before he hit the floor. To any person, it would seem natural to try to steady oneself on another. Not for the Phantom. He leaned against the wall as he sat.

"You're a very good liar." I said through my tears.

A short laugh accompanied a side-smile from him. I turned his face to force him to look at me.

"No matter what title or name you possess, you are still the same man within, and I will always love you."

"You can't prove that. You too have become a fair liar."

His words cut me, though I knew they were true. I reached toward him with both hands as if to embrace him, then changed direction at the last minute. He struck out at me, but I clung to his removed mask with all my might. As soon as the blows relented, I tossed the piece of leather into the lake. He stood shocked for a moment, and then backed away from me and into the shadows. No matter what form he took, this was always Erik's most vulnerable state.

"Erik," I said softly but sternly, "come here."

He didn't move. I walked toward him and he stiffened. Taking his hand, I pulled him out into the candlelight. His emerald eyes looked at me, waiting for the scream that would never come. I looked back at him, waiting for any sort of reaction. He cupped my face in his hands and kissed me. I never wanted that moment of intimacy to end, and I sensed that he felt the same. Erik pulled me closer to him and wrapped his arms around me.

"You stayed." he whispered in wonder, and pressed his lips to mine once more.

It was over.


	16. Before We Are One

Erik's POV-

The voices had stopped and I finally felt relief. Selena's arms were wrapped around me, and I held her close as if she might slip away from me at any moment. I wanted her to stay in my arms forever, for her to be mine and mine alone. Selena pulled back slightly and I saw tears shimmering in her eyes. Without hesitation, I pulled the chain from around my neck and knelt to the ground.

"Will you be mine?" I asked softly, holding the ring up in offering.

With one word she could destroy my very soul. If she refused to become my wife, every ounce of light and hope inside of me would die. Selena solemnly got onto her knees and took my hands in hers.

"From the moment I first met you I was yours and I have dreamt of little else since then. You are a part of me, my love. Before I say anything more, there is something that I wish to know."

Confused as to what she was thinking, I replied in complete ignorance of the dangerous path she would be going down.

"What is it that you wish to know?"

"If Kevin truly was a figment of your imagination," she said with a frown, "then who was the man that you killed in the alleyway?"

This was it. I had known that she would ask this question eventually, but I had not had the time to prepare a decent answer. With Selena kneeling there waiting for a response, I knew that the only solution was to tell her the truth.

"I hired him." I said softly, "He was to play the part of Kevin to convince you of your own insanity. I had realized that my mind was not right and was desperate to convince myself of the opposite. My logic was supremely flawed as I remembered everything that I had done as the Phantom. I did not wish to kill the man, but…"

I placed my hands on her shoulders in an attempt to convey how important this was.

"I was not in control of my own actions. From the moment that I thought I was going to lose you, when you recoiled at the sight of my face, I lost control. My mind split me into different people based on the different things that I wanted for you. The Phantom was composed of my desire to keep you by my side and make you famous. He contained the part of me that always takes pain and turns it into hate and aggression. Then Kevin was created out of my need to be close to you and to protect you. To my mind it seemed easier to deal with my contradictory emotions in this manner. I never meant to hurt you, Selena, I swear it…"

Just as I approached the height of panic she pressed her fingers to my lips. I closed my eyes and struggled to control my hands. I wanted to reach out to her, but fear caused me to pull back in restraint. Selena kissed me lightly on the cheek and I opened my eyes to look at her.

"I know." she said.

Yes, she probably did know, but what were her thoughts other than that?

"I will gladly be yours forever," she said softly, "but…"

But? But what? What else could she possibly want of me?

"You must promise me something."

"Anything." I swore, taking her hands tightly in mine. "I will swear to anything that you ask if only you will stay with me."

"The killing must stop." she said sternly, "Unless it is matter of life or death for you, I want you to swear to me that there will be no more bloodshed."

So that was it. I smiled at Selena wearily and nodded.

"Yes. At any other time I would have thought it impossible, but I no longer feel the need to defend myself in that fashion. If you are with me then the anger and hatred that compels me to kill will not find room to dwell in my heart. My love and gratitude toward you knows no bounds. If you marry me, then I will be but your servant. Nothing that you ask of me will be denied. Let me show you the true depths of my love…"

She smiled and laughed lightly.

"Nothing in this world or the next could make me happier." she replied.

I hesitantly slid the ring onto her finger, not ever looking away from her eyes. Once the deed was done, she squeezed my hands and smiled. This was the start of a new life, for both of us.

You might think that the next few days would have been joyous and filled with hope, but it was the opposite. Selena assured me that everything would turn out splendidly. Even as she spoke words of encouragement and hope as we made the final preparations, I could sense the worry and anticipation within her. We had been close to happiness before and the unexpected threw us into uncertainty and doubt. Such were the stressful circumstances that existed the night that I had the dream. Perhaps I should not refer to it as a dream, for it was more like a flashback. I awoke to Selena's voice as she shook me gently and pulled me from my nightmare. I immediately began spouting senseless gibberish that I knew she would not understand. She asked me to describe the dream to her and I stiffened. I had to tell her of course, but how could I do so with her looking at me like she was? Her eyes showed concern…and trust. Would she understand at all?

"If someone had done something, a long time ago, before even you could fathom to remember, and if this person had, though he abandoned all life in such a way, continued it, would you run in fear?"

Selena's eyes narrowed slightly as she took a breath and ran her hands down my chest. "Erik, I wouldn't care about the past. You knew I was damaged, you knew I wasn't whole from the moment you first saw me. You knew that deep inside my heart had been shattered and not even for a good reason such as nobility or romance. It was for whim, for sport that he had touched me. Just a payment. Just a useless thing to him." Her hands were warm as they ran over me, leaving tingling trails behind.

I took a deep breath and noted how she smelled different. Not like make-up and perfume. But like a woman, soft, exquisite, strong. How she reminded me of fresh parchment and ink, clean ivory keys and ocean seas. I wondered faintly how she took note of my smell. Was it a deep musk of night or did I still smell of Persian nights?

"Long ago, before I had even began to think of becoming a composer, I was more of a monster than anyone could fathom."

Yes, and now the flashbacks drain into my mind. Their deaths so twisted...

"I was in Persia, quite younger than I am now. I needed money, funds, food. Places to sleep and rest my bones. I had nothing, my love. Nothing to call my own. I knew only what the gypsies had taught me. Cruelty, torture and how to kill without a second thought. To kill all around me and collect grim satisfaction."

Her eyes, miraculously, held no fear. Only love. Sweet tender love that caressed, made the words flow easier.

"Slowly it added up. From petty murders to assassin overnight. I was hired by royalty, and spoiled in the lap of luxury. Of the lives I took, I remember nothing. Of the chambers I built I refuse to acknowledge. The simple hatred of humanity ran me out of Persia."

Selena, she did not shake her head and run. Her arms encircled around me and held me tight. Into my ear she whispered,

"Erik, Erik. Don't you understand? There is only love and kindness now. I understand it, completely. You did what you must. That time is over now. You're here. You're safe." Drops of water fell upon my neck as she shook with silent tears. I wrapped her in my arms and rocked her back and forth like I had seen so many lovers do in lifetimes before.

"Selena, my love, you will always be safe in my arms."

We fell asleep soon after, her head resting on my shoulder. Now everything was out. Nothing could stand in the way of our eternal happiness. Nothing.


	17. Sweet Seduction

Selena's POV-

Christine burst into my room with the energy of a hurricane. This was the day! The curtain around the bed moved slightly and then rose with a flourish. Christine stood there with her eyes shining brightly and a triumphant smile spread widely over her face. She grabbed both of my hands and pulled me to my feet in one swift movement. My heart began pounding in my chest and never ceased through the hours of speedy preparation that followed. It was not at all an uncomfortable sensation, but rather a reminder that everything was truly happening. What would life be like after today? I had no idea what the answer to that was, and the mystery of it added to the bouncing energy that seemed to exist all around me. It was to be a very simple ceremony, mostly because that's all we could chance. At first I had been worried that arranging it would prove to be a nearly impossible task, but it turned out that Erik had a few favors to call in from some 'friends' of his. I know that 'friends' is not the right word. Perhaps allies or uneasy partnerships might fit better. You can imagine how troubled I was about the whole thing, but Erik assured me of their loyalty. The strangest part of this loosely woven web of alliances was the pointless risk. Several men would walk purposefully away from Erik, but when I asked him what they were doing, the job would be the kind that should only have required one or two people to complete. This puzzled me because I have always known Erik to be quite efficient in all that he does.

When I had first opened my eyes that morning, I did not jump straight out of bed like I had planned. Instead, I slowly sat upright and placed my chin upon my bent knees in contemplation. The actual wedding was not until that evening, as everyone agreed that sundown would be safer. Don't ask me why we didn't just plan to have it during the dead of night, which would have been the wise thing to do. Erik had insisted on planning the entire thing. 'I'll take care of it.' he'd said. If you had told me at the age of twenty what was going to happen, I probably have laughed in your face. All hope of a happy life had died, and I had resigned myself to mere survival. Now I had a chance to receive more than I had ever imagined possible. In just a few hours I would be Selena Destler. She would be a whole new person, my chance for a new life. Pure unadulterated hope filled my heart and I smiled excitedly. I didn't know if Erik had any idea of what this day meant to me, but he would. The vows I would make would paint a very clear picture. My only worry was the tears that I knew would be waiting. Even then I could feel them pressing from behind my eyes, demanding release. Those bitter tears had been waiting for most of my life, remainders of all the overwhelming fear, despair, and frustration. Then, at last, came the newer tears of passion and joy. I owed Erik everything…and I always will.

As the sun slowly began to sink toward the horizon and final preparations were made, I knew it time. I had put the task off for as long as I could, and Christine was about to explode from excitement and impatience. Sticking my head out the door, I gave her the nod that she had been waiting all day for. She jumped up with a smile and dashed to the bureau. Time seemed to slow as the doors opened to reveal a gorgeous white dress. My heart leapt into my throat and I found that I couldn't breathe. The dress itself was beautiful in design, but the color…All the blood drained from my face as I realized, to my horror, that I had been wrong. I had thought that all feelings of hesitation had gone by the wayside when Erik had asked me to be his wife, but no.

"I can't do this." I whispered.

Christine's brow wrinkled in confusion.

"What do you mean?"

"Exactly what I said." I replied, becoming hysterical, "I thought that I could just swallow my disgust and move on, but I can't."

She jumped slightly in shock.

"But-But I thought…"

"You thought what?" I interrupted with a snap. "Did you think that I could swallow my horror and disgust and keep my mouth shut like a good girl? Well, so did I…but I can't…"

My body shook and tears ran down my face. She led me over to the bed and sat down, holding me as I cried.

"What am I going to _do_, Christine?"

I lifted my head and peered up at her fearfully.

"Perhaps you should tell me what all this is about." she said softly.

And so, I told her. The dress shifted in the summer breeze that came through the open window, and for a moment it looked as if it were alive.

"He's haunting me." I whispered, "Destry won't let me even look at that dress, not to mention put it on."

The ghost of his voice laughed cruelly, as if on cue.

"You can't do it!" he mocked, "White means purity, and I took that away from you a long time ago!"

His cackle continued to ring through my ears, but something else was entering my mind. A bright and beautiful realization arose from the depths of my tortured soul. Took. Destry had taken my purity from me; I had not given it to him! Though my body might have been damaged and tainted, I found to my utter shock that my soul had not. My spirit had shriveled up and nearly died, but now…I was healing. Destry became furious. He screamed things that I knew would have ripped me in two just moments before, but that now fell dead upon my ears. And then Erik was there, his voice filled with pure love. He was saying something, but I couldn't hear him over Destry. I focused on Destry's voice and began shutting it off, like there was a valve attached. Finally, I was able to discern what Erik was saying. Softly, almost as if it were an illusion…

"I love you."

Tears ran down my face, and a gentle smile spread across my face. There was no doubt in my mind now that I could do this. The dress was just a dress, beautiful and inorganic. I ignored the confused look that Christine was giving me and walked slowly forward to put on my dress.

Erik's POV-

I waited with the priest for what seemed like an eternity. Never in my life had been so nervous. Would she like the arrangement that I had planned? Her face floated before my eyes, filled with disappointment. That's all I had ever been to anyone, just a big disappointment. My mother, of course, had been the first. There had been horror and hatred, yes, but first came the overwhelming disappointment. I never blamed her for that. My birth had been the only hope she had for some sweet remainder of her deceased husband. Instead, she received a curse from the gods. Then there was Christine…my beautiful Christine. We had been so close to happiness…until the boy came. His presence had forced my hand, to make her understand that I too was someone she could see and touch…and love. She had loved her angel, of that I was certain. Once she had removed my mask and seen that I was not even a human, but a monster, the magic was lost. The more she found out about me, the more her disappointment grew. I stood looking at the image of Selena in front of me, and a lump appeared in my throat. I couldn't do this. Turning away frantically, I began to flee.

As I turned, I was stopped dead in my tracks. There, entering the glade with the graceful steps of royalty, was an angel. Her eyes were gently closed as she floated toward me, opening at the touch of a hooded companion who seemed vaguely familiar. At first she blinked and looked around confusedly, but then her eyes landed upon me…and she smiled. The angel was smiling at me! The many colors of the sunset reflected off of the pieces of stained glass that I had hung from the trees, causing her satin dress to shine like a moving piece of art. That was when I realized…_this was my bride_. Everything that I had planned to light up the beauty of our wedding place fell into darkness compared to her radiance. The priest went through the ceremony, but all I could hear was her gentle breathing as she stood next to me. It came time for any vows that we might make, but my mind was blank. What could I say to such beauty? I did not deserve her. Tears welled up in my eyes and spilled over. Through my blurred vision I saw an astounding sight. The angel was crying as well. I reached up and wiped the tears from her face.

"I swear that I will do everything in my power to become worthy of you, though I fear it impossible." I whispered.

"And I swear that I will do everything in my power to show you that you already are." she whispered back.

Then her lips were touching mine, and a taste sweeter than honey was left upon them. My spirit lifted and felt strong again; for the first time since my heart had been broken by her cousin. Selena was now my wife. We were one.

Selena's POV-

We came to the entrance to the Rue Scribe and he lifted me into his arms. I held the train of my dress so that it wouldn't fall into the water, and smiled as he carried me to dry ground. Expecting him to set me down upon the stone floor, I shifted in preparation to stand. With a suppressed smile, he tightened his grip upon me and started down the stairs.

"What ARE you doing?" I laughed.

"Carrying the bride over the threshold." he answered quietly.

"Darling," I said into his ear, "put me down. You'll hurt yourself."

He glanced at me with a mischievous look in his eyes and kept walking down the stairs. I sighed. He was so sweet…and so stubborn. We reached his home, but he STILL didn't release me. Erik carried me into the bedroom and gently laid me down upon the bed. He hovered above me and then gently kissed me on the lips. I leaned into the kiss and put my arms around his neck, trying to pull him onto the bed with me. Unsuspecting of my move, he fell onto the bed with ease. I smiled and pulled his mask and wig off. There was no hiding now.

Our kisses gradually became more aggressive and passionate. I hadn't ever tasted anything so sweet in my life. Our arms were around each other and there was next to no space between our bodies. I whimpered quietly in dissatisfaction. We had never been so close, but it wasn't enough! Erik seemed to feel the same, and we fought against the solidness of our bodies with a vengeance. His hands grabbed at the material of my dress, seeking something to grasp and failing. Then came a small sound that echoed off of the walls like a waterfall. I stiffened and paled in fear at the recognition of the sound. Erik pulled away from me, his face as white as the strip of satin in his hands. I took deep shaking breaths to steady myself. This was Erik! He turned his face from me in shame.

"I'm so sorry, Selena." he said, his voice shaking.

I hesitatingly reached for him, but he rose quickly and fled from the room. Burying my face in my lap, I slammed my eyes shut against the oncoming tears. As hard as I had tried to fend it off, my past had still managed to ruin my wedding night. My soul ached for and feared Erik's love all in one convulsing mess of emotion. Tears of sadness turned to tears of rage as the finger of blame pointed to Erik. How dare he leave me like this, especially on our wedding night! How dare he pull away!

I uncurled and jumped from the bed in one swift motion. Erik sat at the organ with his head in his hands, his body shaking from suppressed sobs. The finger of blame vanished as I came to my senses. If anyone was to blame, it was Destry, but I refused to let him win. I walked over to Erik and sat beside him, turning his tearstained face towards mine.

"I'm so sorry," he repeated, "I never meant to-you don't have to-I-"

I placed my fingertips gently over his mouth. If he went down that road, I might just follow him.

"I need you." I said.

He stared at me confusedly. Of course, I shouldn't have expected him to just guess. I started again.

"I need you to take me fully and completely as your wife." I explained in a hushed tone, "As long as you refuse to do so, my body will belong to him."

I gripped his arms in fear. He was just staring at me, uncomprehending. He had to understand!

"I need you to erase him…his touch…from my memory. When you touch me, I don't want to feel him as I just did. I don't want the rest of my days to be spent avoiding certain actions that would come natural to us as husband and wife. Erase my past, Erik. Please…"

A painful light entered his eyes, and I knew that he understood. Yes, my poor Erik understood all too well what I needed. He needed it as well…but would never ask. I took his hand, kissed it tenderly, and held it to my cheek. Our fingers gently entwined as we began to walk back to the bedroom. Tonight our scars would be healed.

We had wordlessly agreed to undress by ourselves. When I came back into the bedroom he was under the covers, and only his smooth chest and face shone pale in the candlelight. I crawled in and sat perfectly still as he slowly undid the back of my nightgown. The cool air hit my bare skin, making me shiver slightly. He felt it and paused, ceasing to even breathe. I wordlessly waited and willed him to continue, which he did after one terrible moment of stillness. The gown was pulled gently over my head, and I closed my eyes.

Erik's POV-

The skin on her back was soft and pale and I became dizzy as her light brown locks settled silently on her bare shoulders. I glided my fingertips over this exposed area and tentatively placed kisses along her spine. She breathed a sigh of content and I paused, in awe that someone would take pleasure in my touch and affection. In that moment she turned her body toward me, and I was struck by the beauty of her revealed curves. She kissed me with a smile, setting my limbs free to move and explore once more. How good a wife she was, lying there with her eyes closed, trusting me with her exposed vulnerability. For if my Selena (she was finally mine…) had any weakness, then it was here, in this state of perfect innocence. I brushed the hair gently from her face, imagining that this was a similar posture she had assumed when that beast had first taken her. My hands clenched momentarily into fists, and I quickly shut that scene from my mind. Thinking about that night made my blood boil with fury, and I could not feel anger now. I had to be very careful to monitor my feelings here. If I were to let my mind go, even for a second, I might hurt her. For that I would accept no forgiveness, from her or anyone else.

I quietly slipped myself into her slim body. She whimpered quietly and tears formed in my eyes. I couldn't do this. She was being so good, lying there so still and quiet, but that whimper was my undoing. I was hurting her! She reached up and ran her fingers through what hair I had been left, stroking my hideous deformity as if it was something to be treasured. Her blue eyes looked up at me with trust and love shining through them. I took the moment as permission and greedily (but carefully…oh so carefully!) slid the rest of the way in. Selena's arms wrapped around me and she kissed me passionately.

"Thank you." she breathed.

We rolled around for a while, more awkwardly seeking a comfortable position than expressing passion. I bent down and kissed her lips, and her sweet scent intoxicated me. She looked up at me, the knowledge of my dilemma making her eyes sparkle strangely. I begged her with my eyes not to pursue the thought running through her mind, but my headstrong bride forced her lips against mine, unlocking my deepest desires.

Selena's POV-

I felt a wordless song emerging from the depths of my endless love for him. How could I share this song with Erik? I felt my body melt and stiffen in rapid intervals. Erik's arms went around me and his lips pressed harder against mine. It was as if he was gaining strength from our passion. Of course he was. Wasn't I doing the same? This was how we lived. I realized this at that exact moment. The past months we had been surviving, but in the blinding light of our passionate love we were doing more than that. We were thriving. I looked into Erik's eyes…and saw that he was singing. I leaned into him and listened to his song, hoping to find that it was the same as mine. Leaning closer and closer, I struggled to hear it. Without warning, something happened inside of me. He had been inside of me for minutes now, but it was only then that I felt our pieces perfectly align.

Erik's POV-

My mind was lost and my heart took over, determined to conquer this lovely specimen of the female breed. For surely they were a being completely separate from man, the seductive sparkle in her eyes driving me onward. She was the conqueror here, not I. Her every sigh was perfectly formed to bend me to her will. My every advance, no matter how rough, was in answer to her desires. I worried for her safety as pain filled her passionate screams of delight, but there was nothing I could do. Certain I would kill my bride; I fearfully whispered pleas for her to cease. She ignored my pleas and thrust her tongue down my throat. She rolled me over onto my back and assumed full control. I groaned in pleasure and in surrender, as she pressed ever onward. Yes, it was not she that would die this night, but I. The candlelight blurred and I prayed that I would mercifully faint from lack of air, yet every bone in my body cried out for more. My very soul screamed in agony. She _was_ my air, and I was suffocating from not receiving her quick enough and in ample quantities. My lungs were burning, but so was my soul. Every remark that had seared my soul and left its mark was being seared away by her love. Suddenly everything burst into brilliant light, and I melted into her. I sobbed like a little boy and clung to her in terror. I could feel her presence flowing through my veins, and it screamed my name to the heavens. It proclaimed to the world, even unto the angels above, that I was hers and she was mine. She told every being with a soul to hear her, for I was sure that even the deaf could hear her, that I was loved. Erik…was loved.

*This is the end of VITD, but there will be a sequel. It will be by me this time, not someone else as in the case of Intervention (which has 2 other parts under the author 'phantomlover' at /fifthcellar). Reviews for this chapter would be lovely.*

Selena's Wedding Dress-

The Ring-


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